You & I
by qarlgrimes
Summary: I used to be different. You never knew the me before you, just as I never knew the you before me. Girls used to say I could have been so much prettier if I just tried harder. Trying wasn't my forte until I met you, though. I tried much harder after that. I became the me I was supposed to become. I suppose this is the story of that, Jerome. Sex, murder and everything else. ABANDONED
1. You

**Jerome's character is just too brilliant, I couldn't resist writing something to do with him.**

* * *

 **You & I**

* * *

Chapter One

 _You._

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

\- You & I - Crystal Fighters.

* * *

I used to be different, you know. You never knew the me before you, just as I never knew the you before me. I could tell you now, in great detail, of my life before Arkham, before every Asylum I had been thrown into at and after the age of sixteen.I could tell you about High School, and how I liked Maths and hated Spanish. I could tell you that, once, I had a father who loved me and a mother who tolerated me. I could blather on and on about how, once, I was considered being the quiet, weird one who girls would say _could have been so much prettier if she just tried harder._

Trying harder was not my forte, until I met you. I tried to much harder after that. I became _better._ I became the _me_ that I was supposed to become.

I suppose, in a way, that this is the story of that.

* * *

When you were admitted to Arkham, I already called the Asylum my home.

You walked around like you owned the entire joint; like the world was your oyster and your oyster alone. There was no pretence in your arrogance - can I even call it arrogance? You simply ruled your own world with such surety that I, for a moment, was entirely jealous of you. I wished so desperately to be that way; to not be the quiet, angry shell of a person I pretended to be. I was the quiet type of crazy, the kind that sulked in silence and wanted to be left alone.

But you...you came along, didn't you?

Unstable, they called me. The Doctors, I mean. _Mad Madeline_ was the name so commonly associated with my person, from such a young age. A good call, apparently, because I turned out to be a jumble of messy marbles flying about the world. Head always spinning; mind always grinning. Grinning? Yeah, you could say grinning.

I grinned more when I met you.

And that meeting was the day you arrived. There's a recreational room at Arkham, as you will know. I place lined with tables and chairs and books and board games, all to keep the inmates of Arkham Asylum entertained in those small hours of freedom. I was sitting alone, as usual, reading a book I vaguely remember being called _Clown Girl_ (a book I never finished, thanks to you). You waltzed in, all striped out and looking the Arkham part.

You looked straight at me and grinned in that way that only _you can grin,_ and the world...it fell apart, rather than in place.

Perhaps you came to sit beside me because I was the only other person closest to your eighteen years of age (I was nineteen when I met you, you know) and you wanted someone with the same youthful craze as you. You didn't seem eighteen though. Even in your childish fits of laughter, you seemed so much older. You worried me at first, simply because I didn't know whether you wanted to murder me or fuck me.

'Hel _lo,_ beautiful,' you quipped, throwing yourself down onto the seat beside me. I had taken you in quickly, as I did most people. Your hair was ginger and slicked back in a messy way that suggested your hands had been running through it too often. Lovely hair. My favourite colour, you know - _orange._ You had light freckles, pale skin and white teeth that always seemed to be on show. I noticed your hands quickly, too. Nice hands. Long and unmarked.

I always loved your hands.

You were and _are_ not conventionally handsome. You have a boyish charm, though, that draws any person toward you - if they do not not know the _real_ you, I mean. I meant that to be offensive. Kind of. Because, from any other perspective but mine (and I think it often too, you know) you are a cruel individual.

'Hello,' I had greeted, dropping my book onto the table and considering you. 'You're new'.

Having been moved from Asylum to Asylum with the same bunch of people, I knew a new face when I saw one.

'I am,' you agreed, with that almost _mocking_ smile always staying _right there._ 'What a _rush,_ huh - walking through those _doors?_ Felt like first day of school all over again, _sweet cheeks,_ I'll tell you that much'. You clucked and stretched your legs. Always moving, always busy. 'I'm _Jerome,_ in case you were _wondering._ Killed my mom, if you were wondering _that too'._

A soft smile had inched its way onto my face, a very nearly a _humorous_ smile. You had seen this, because your own look turned to excitement at what was about to come out of my mouth, or perhaps it was because I had _smiled_ when you told me you had _murdered_ your mother. I folded my book closed. 'We have one thing in common, Jerome, at least'.

You laughed. It startled me, but only because the noise was so abrupt and quick to fall out of your wide open mouth. People stared, guards jumped. 'Haha! That's a _hoot,_ ain't it?! Didn't you just _love it?'_ You voice dropped to a low growl as you leaned toward me, knees parted and elbows resting on them. You have dark eyes that can become so suddenly hooded and dangerous that, in that moment, I could only stare at you in interest. 'Now I _gotta_ know your name, beautiful'.

My cheeks painted pink at the nickname you kept throwing so carelessly my way because, in fact, I was not beautiful. I was short and skinny, with scratched up arms and eyes too big for a face like mine. My hair was a frizzy, short mess, for I never really bothered to a run a comb through it. I was nothing special, and I had never been something special.

Until you came along, that is.

'Madeline,' I told you, and the smile spread wide across your face.

'Madeline,' you repeated, over the sounds of the guards clapping their hands and ordering the inmates to stand in a line as we were pushed back into our cells. 'I'll be seeing more of _you,_ Madeline'.

And that, as they say, was that.

* * *

That night, after the first day I had met you, I lay in those terrible Arkham beds and wondered what had possessed you to kill your mother. Had it been neglect? Disinterest? Jealousy? I hoped there was a motive, because Crazies without motives were the ones that could turn on your for stepping on their toe. There's already been a few heads smashed into walls since Arkham had opened and I had started to walk its walls.

I wondered if I would talk to you again and, like a blathering teenage girl, I had hoped I would. You see, back then, if no one took an interest in me, then I would not bother taking an interest in them. This often led to me being a complete and utter loner.

But you...you came to me and you _gave a shit_ about just a tiny bit of my story.

I suppose that's how you got me hooked.

I suppose that was your plan.

* * *

You found your way around the Asylum quickly, knowing exactly who to befriend and who to cast a cold shoulder to. Sionos was first. He was the one who would always lean toward the ladies of the Asylum, but after the indecent shortly after his arrival, he had stayed far away from me.

Greenwood was an easy one to befriend. He was brutish and sly and entirely crazed in a way that I hoped sincerely I was not - he _ate_ people, Jerome. How could that not bother you?

Helzinger followed shortly after. He was stupid, yes, but strong and oddly loyal. Another smart move on your part.

Then Dobkins. Rapist. Is there anything else I can say on that? I am mad, Jerome. I wish I was not, but I am. I've looked at the doctors notes and seen my diagnoses (Sociopathy and Impulse control disorder) and, oh, hadn't Doctor Isis just _loved diagnosing_ me with that last one, J. I bet she'd felt so damn _special._ I've gone off track. I _may_ be all of those things, but I _know_ that a cannibal and a rapist are not calls for good company.

You found me again the next day and, this time, you decided you wanted to _talk_ to me. You sat as you had the day before; beside me, but with both legs on either side of the bench seat and with your pale hands clasped before you. You might not have noticed, but that day I'd had to hold back an insane amount from just going forward and grabbing those lovely hands of yours.

Hands that killed without thought.

I remember that bugging me, when I first learnt that about you. The fact that you killed so meaninglessly...there was no _method._ We both had reasons for killing our mothers, but after that...you just went insane. Mad.

And you took me with you.

Your knees spread wider as you spoke to me, as you leaned closer and closer to my patiently listening face. Your mouth moved like lightening, but your eyes...your eyes stayed perfectly fixed on my face. You barely even blinked. You spoke of the circus you grew up in, and the mother you hated so much. 'She'd _bone_ some guy every night,' you drawled, stretching your arms out in front of you. 'But that would leave me to wander about the grounds. You ever been to a circus, Madeline?'

Ah. A moment for me to talk. I shook my head. 'Never'.

You tutted and sighed. 'Madeline! They're so _exciting -_ always something happening at a circus, always people to see! We're gonna go someday,' you said with an air of finality. A slap on the table settled that matter. 'And you're gonna _smile_ for me'.

I smirked. 'Will I?' I wondered what your hair felt like. My hands had twitched to touch it. No one, in a long time, had spoken to me like you had then. With _interest_ and _meaning_.

You closed your mouth, for once, and gave me a smile that would send children running. Grabbing either side of the bench, you scooted forward in your seat. 'Face me,' you said.

I furrowed a brow. 'I _am_ , Jerome'.

Still holding the bench in your long fingers, you leant back and held all your weight. 'No, no,' you sang. 'Turn _your whole body_ toward me - like _I_ am'. Your eyes were dark and your smile was stretching. I hadn't noticed, but your new friends stared and smirked and snickered from across the room. I had stayed so quiet in this hell hole of a place for so long, and you just _had_ to come along and ruin that for me.

I did as told, though. I always did in the beginning, didn't I? Out of politeness and need to please you, I always did as I was told. It went quickly. I became _me,_ just as you had planned.

I moved with as much grace as my slim limbs would allow. I wore the striped dress and, with my legs sidled over the bench, it rose up my leg and revealed the plain, worn white shoes we were all ordered to wear.

Once I was settled, you tilted your head like a child. 'Did you _smile_ when you killed her?' you inquired. Your hands, still curled around either side of the bench, were so close to my nearly exposed knees. When had a last been so close with another human being? When had someone taken such interest in me? Oh, you _knew_ what you were doing, and I had let you so easily.

I blinked, recalling the _relief_ I had felt once my mother was no longer in the world. 'Yes'.

You leaned forward, teeth bared and eyes ablaze. I saw you, then. The you that was _you._ You'd showered since yesterday, when you had first arrived, because I could smell the cheap soap that held in your hair. I could see the length of your eyelashes touching the skin just above your eye. Every inch of you seemed to be vibrating, and it was only then that I realized me legs had moved further apart. I wet my lips and watched you speak. ' _Why?'_

'Because she didn't like what _I became-'_ her Mad Madeline, Jerome, the daughter that shouted at her own head and scratched her arms until they bled '-so I leaned across the table, at dinner one night before _dad_ came home, and _somehow_ my fork found its way in the side of her neck. Again and again and _again-'_

You breathed out deeply, eyes darker than ever and lips quirked up at the sides. 'Oh, _Madeline,'_ you sang, voice almost hidden by the low tone of your voice. Your eyes, hooded and dark and _terrifying,_ bore into my own wide, innocent ones. I knew how to play you, just as you knew how to play me. It was part of _us -_ to manipulate others and to laugh whilst doing it. 'If this room were empty, I'd fuck you right here'.

I blinked and snorted. 'That's not something you say to someone with Impulse Control Disorder, Jerome'.

And you had _laughed._

* * *

 **First chapter! Like or hate? Hopefully like, but hey-ho. Review, leave me love! If there are any mistakes, I'd be really grateful if anyone pointed them out. I've revised this chapter as much as I can, but I'm half asleep and have to be in London early tomorrow. If you're wondering how Jerome being too soft on her, wait until Madeline starts to grow that back-bone she's been telling you about. I can't imagine Jerome liking that, can you?**

 **Also, I do this with most of my fics so readers can get insights to when the hell I will update, but my tumblr is qarlgrimes. Holla.**

 **Chow!**


	2. Mad

**Jerome's character is just too brilliant, I couldn't resist writing something to do with him.**

* * *

 **You & I**

* * *

Chapter Two

 _Mad_

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

\- You & I - Crystal Fighters.

* * *

You liked how quiet I had been at first, and I think that's what drew you in. You saw a pretty little thing sitting at a table alone and, in your mind, I was the perfect obsession; I was someone you could _relate_ you. I allowed you to do this, of course, but how you saw me was exactly how I saw you: someone to be there, someone as mad as I was, someone to help me pick up the pieces in that hell hole of an Asylum.

But I had taught myself to survive in such places _alone._ I wasn't used to having someone there, someone pestering me and laughing at me and sharing madness that I knew so well. But that was you, wasn't it? Always there, always lingering.

You wanted to become an imprint on my life, so I let you.

'But don't ya wanna be _remembered,_ Mads?' you drawled, sprawling yourself over the bench and waggling your eyebrows at me. 'Don't you want people to _remember_ you, huh?'

The thought had never occurred to me, in all honesty. I'd never really wished to change the world I lived in until I met you, you know - before that, I never really cared about anything at all. What could I care about? I was Mad Madeline who shouted at walls whenever her mind was telling her to _do do do_ something. What could I ever do with my life, other than rot away in an Asylum?

'I never really thought about it, Jerome,' I answered, picking away at my food. You'd already finished yours, as always. You ate so quickly, like that meal could be your last meal ever. I suppose, with your life, it could be. 'What's the point in being remembered, when you can so easily be forgotten after a day? I mean...I killed my mom and people only spoke about it for a week, tops. That was something I...I _needed to do'._ Impulse. Need. _Do._ 'For her and for me. If I was to be remembered, it's gotta be for something like that, you know?' _Something the Impulse tells me to do._

You grinned, wide and toothy. 'Ain't you a _treat'._ You smacked your lips and leaned toward me, hands clasped and tongue moving in thought. 'Thing is, people have gotta be _reminded_ that the world's an ugly place, y'know? I like to think I do that job _pretty darn well._ But they gotta realise that they just, uh...gimme somethin' here, Mads'. You clicked your fingers.

'Tiny cogs,' I mused. 'In one big factory'.

You clapped. 'Brilliant! Fantastic! There's gotta be someone to _change that,_ y'know? To break that... _schedule_ of money, work, sex and-and _mundaneness,_ am I right?' Your tongue flicked out and caught the dryness of your lip. I blinked. 'You gotta have _brains_ to look _outside the box_ and see how stuff needs to _change'._

And I saw it. I really, honestly saw what you were trying to say, Jerome. It made sense to me more than anything else ever had in my life, and I wanted to live that little dream with you. Two days. Two fuckin' days in, and already you had captured my mind and spread it wider than it had in a long time. And you...you latched onto me, the person who would listen to you and nod at your and who _got you._ It was then that I realised it, and knew that without a doubt I could _use_ it. I could use _you._

You reached for me, fingers curling around my neck and jaw. Perhaps you had squeezed a little too hard, but you always were violent, weren't you? You always expressed yourself with a crunching of bones and an axe to the neck. ' _You_ see that, don't you, beautiful? _You_ see what's gotta change and what's gotta be done'. You grinned and laughed. In there, no one even looked at you when you did that. It was the norm. Your eyes scanned my face, and for the first time I saw nothing but curiosity there. 'You're gonna be phenomenal, y'know? Be loud and proud, beautiful, and the world will be so much _easier_ to live in'.

You were right.

It was.

'My mother was quiet,' I told you. 'She always told me quietness was a ladies best quality. To watch and listen and never speak out'. A grin sliced across my face. 'She's always quiet now'.

Only my Doctors saw me that way, Jerome. I never spoke to people enough to let them see the crazy.

You, though, you tightened your hold on my jaw and ground your teeth like you were stopping yourself from swallowing me whole. I knew how to play people, Jerome. I knew what to let them see; what part of my being would draw them to me most, if I needed them to be. With my Doctors, I was usually very quiet, very shy, very articulate in explaining myself. With you, and only you, I was real. You had been the only person to want to see that part of me.

And, oh, you made me _free._

* * *

'I understand that you've made a friend, Madeline'. It was a week in. They'd noticed.

My Doctor, Doctor Isis, was a very smart woman. I liked her sometimes, but I didn't like her when she treated me like a piece of glass. I wondered often if that was her method, or if she simply though every crazy person was going to breakdown at any moment. I knew that she felt sorry for me, and that was my aim. Because of that, she listened to what kind of meds I was okay with taking, and what dosage made me feel empty.

Not that I ever actually took the meds, as you know. Neither did you, really. They made us think like submissive idiots.

I blinked at her, eyes wide and mouth closed. 'Yes,' I nodded. 'Jerome. He's nice. He talks to me'. Short sentence to punctuate the 'quietness' of my nature. The confusion of whether I should talk or not, whether she wanted me to talk. Barely any eye contact. Fiddling hands. Feet crossed at the ankles. Praises to you with naivety at what you had done. This is how I played them, Jerome. You _loved_ it.

Isis pursed her lips and gave me a look of sympathy. Silly woman. She only wanted to help. 'I know that making friends is difficult, Madeline, but perhaps you would do better buddying up with someone a little less... _outwardly spoken_ than Jerome, hmm? Doesn't he scare you?'

Nothing scared me. I'm not sure whether it was numbness to the feeling, or simply because I hadn't been exposed to anything particularly terrifying before.

I shook my head. 'He talks to me like I'm real'.

Isis nodded and scrawled something across her notebook. 'That's fair enough, Madeline. Please, though, won't you be careful?' I nodded and smiled at her in a way that was nothing like the way I smiled at you. Closed mouth, kind eyes. 'Today, Madeline, I want to talk to you about your father'. I was surprised at this notion, this suggestion. She never talked about my father, you know. Only my dead mother. 'Is that okay?'

I uncrossed my ankles and nodded.

'I spoke to him very recently,' said Isis, pushing her blonde hair over her shoulder with manicured hands. On her wedding finger, there was evidence of white skin where a wedding band would have been. I'd noticed that when I'd arrived at the Asylum. I stared away from her hand and to her face, egging her to carry on talking. 'He said he would like to see you, as he now believes he's ready'.

I could have scoffed. _Ready?_ I did him a favour, and he God damn knew it. 'Oh'. I breathed in. 'I don't really want to see him'. _Stay calm._

Isis nodded. 'I thought that would be the case, Madeline. I want you to really think about this though, okay? Seeing your father again could really help you in...in _healing_. It could help you come to terms with what you did and _why_ you did it, which is what we're really trying to get at here, isn't it?'

 _I know why I did it. I did it because she was killing every part of me. I did it because she may have well have been dead already, the empty shell of a woman she was. Empty. Empty. Nothing._ I nodded, brow furrowed in thought. 'I understand. Yes. I'll think on it'.

Ten minutes later, I was storming into the recreational room with red cheeks and tights fists, eyes searching for only you. You sat with the _gang,_ mouth moving quickly and eyes intense as you stared at Sionis across from you. Cannibal Man grinned when he saw me, meaty cheeks pulling upward, and said something to you. By this time, I had already thrown myself onto a table farthest away from anyone else in the whole room.

Your gaze darkened when you saw me.

In ten seconds flat you were sitting closer to me than you had ever sat before. 'What?' you asked, eyes always so intense and _staring._ 'What's _wroooong,_ beautiful?'

In one week, you had become such a fixture in my life that I could not dismiss this new event. I had to tell you. I wanted you to know. 'My father wants to come and visit me'. You leaned back. You clucked your tongue. 'He found me. Saw me. Saw me _do it._ Saw me get that knife and cut into her like-like _that._ Felt like slicing into an apple or something softer, y'know?' You looked at me like you got it and all I could think was _finally._ 'He saw it, though. I don't wanna see him. He reminds me of her. Let her rule him like he was nothing. I did it for _him -_ so he could get rid of her. So he could stop being so _sad._ It was such an easy solution...no one would miss her and he _doesn't. He can't'._ I shook my head, curls flying. 'Why are they all so _stupid,_ Jerome?'

You bowed your head and grinned, eyes only on me. ' _There you are,'_ you said.

And there I was. You found me. I let you see me.

Later, I sat in my cell with my feet pressed against the ground and my fingers playing across the cuts on my arm. I can't really remember how I'd done them, but my Doctors never let me have my fingernails very long, so I could make a guess. I didn't remember a lot of things, you know. I think I blocked stuff out that I didn't want to remember. Stuff that I had no time for.

You can't even imagine my surprise when you came into my cell, something that was strictly forbidden in Arkham. One week, and you had already bent the rules and remade them to fit your own needs.

'Sionis,' you said, grinning at my look. 'Paid off one of the guards - he owed me a favour'.

'Already?' I asked.

You shrugged. 'I work quickly'. You stood before me, nearly six foot and, with hands playing at your sides, you cracked your neck. 'Get up'.

I scowled. 'Say please'.

You _loved_ it. 'Oh, oh! It's all an act, ain't it, _Mad_ eline? Quietness and cuteness and big, round eyes. You just wanna stay unnoticed and get on with your little _act, but I'll play along'._ You threw yourself onto the bed. 'Y'know, Sionis wasn't too happy with me wasting my favour on _you,_ beautiful'. You sat there, back straight and eyes wide and unblinking. I wondered, sometimes, how you were even real. 'I heard somethin' pretty funny, truth be told'. You lowered your voice and leaned in. 'Wanna know what it is?'

I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. 'I think I can guess what it is'.

You hooted, only to shut your mouth when there was a small knock on the door. 'Gotta be quiet, huh?' You rolled your eyes. 'I heard that Sionis, ahem, _tried it on_ with my Madeline, huh? Silly man. Silly, _silly_ man. But I bet he knows that now!' You slapped your hands against your knees. 'He wouldn't tell. Me. What. Though'. You frowned hard. 'You wanna tell me, Mads? I won't be able to sleep unless I know what it is!'

I was baffled. 'You wasted your favour to find _that_ out?' You said nothing. You only stayed and bumped your knee against mine. A strand of ginger hair fell into your eyes, and I watched it before sighing. 'Fine, Jerome. Fine. I bit him, okay? I kicked him and bit him and made sure that the guards didn't see any of the marks'. I smiled prettily. 'They can't resist my _sweetness,_ you know'.

You jaw clenched quickly, muscle jumping rapidly as you stared at me like I was cake on your birthday. 'Bad girl,' you said, teeth pressing into your knuckles. _'Naughty girl'._ My stomach felt hot and pulled your knuckle away from your mother and met my gaze with dark eyes that sometimes, _sometimes,_ could be a very lovely shade of blue. I was very aware of who you were in that moment. I was very aware that you were simply an eighteen year old boy who had, most likely, never really had many encounters with women or girls.

I wanted to know you more than I had ever known anyone else.

'You can kiss me, Jerome,' I said.

You pounced, mouth slamming against mine but, oh, I _loved_ it. Your hand landed on my cheek and your knee bumped harder against mine. It lasted maybe ten seconds, maybe less, before there were two knocks on the door.

You breathed. You grinned. 'Oh. _Oh._ I'm never gonna wanna stop doing that, beautiful'.

* * *

 **Second chapter. Yay! The reviews have been wonderful, thank you so much! If you want to leave some more than would be very nice :) Remember, the tumblr is qarlgrimes!**


	3. Family

**SPOILERS. I know, I know. Jerome is very much dead. Honestly, going into this story, I was pretty sure that would be the outcome of his character. I think it's waste, considering how brilliant the acting was and how much more could have been done with the character. I'm especially annoyed at how the Joker is now going to be a copycat of Jerome because, for me, that ruins the entire basis of the Jokers character. Alas, you'll just have to wait and see what I do with this story. Like I said, I knew he might die, so I thought of everything ;)**

* * *

 **You & I**

* * *

Chapter Three

 _Family_

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

\- You & I - Crystal Fighters.

* * *

I used to love food. I used to taste everything with such... _vigour_ and excitement. My father used to swear that I could be a chef, or a food critic, or something along those lines. I loved good food that was filling and wholesome and full of everything that was bad for you.

I had a habit of liking things that were bad for me, apparently.

I remember asking you if you actually _tasted_ your food when you ate it, and you had a cracked a smile and barked a laugh at me. I scowled. 'Don't laugh, Jerome. I honestly don't think I've ever seen someone eat as quickly as you do, you know'. I then glanced down at the bland, worrying looking substance you were eating. 'Then again, maybe it is better to just eat that as quickly as you can'.

You clucked and moved and looked me up and down. We were in the cafeteria; the first ones to enter the room in the morning. 'Maybe you should actually _eat,_ beautiful, huh?' You touched my dress and ran a finger along my ribs. 'All _skin_ and _bones_. We need to make you solid again, don't we?' You laughed hard, like you had made the worlds funniest joke.

Your friends entered then, the men that I had avoided so consistently since checking into the Asylum. Sionis frowned at me, foot nudging into mine as they sat down at the table, surrounding us and ruining the perfect contentedness that I had acquired form just being with _you._ Dobkins leered at me and giggled with such ferocity I thought that he might fall off of his chair. Helzinger simply guffawed.

'Don't,' you snapped at him, and that was that.

'Little _Madeline,'_ drawled Sionis, dark eyes forcing me to turn and look across at him. 'How _are_ things?'

I blinked and bristled. 'Fine, until a few moments ago'.

Sionis smirked. He was a lovely looking man, there was no denying. You knew this, because when I looked at you your face and fallen into a look so terrifying and so foreign to me that I had to do a double take. You were not threatened, I knew that much, but I knew the kind of crazy that you were, and I knew the kind of man that you were. I was yours. You thought that was such profound clarity that it must have been infuriating for you to see me surrounded by the men you had kept me separated from.

I thought I should make you feel better. I though perhaps, I should be kind to you. ' _Careful,_ Sionis,' I warned, pressing down my skirt and glancing up at him with wide eyes. 'How is your arm, by the way? I heard you almost needed stitches'. I grinned at him.

Greenwood kicked the table. 'I got three weeks in solitary for that, _bitch'._

A part of the story you hadn't know before that, was that I had made _special_ sure that Greenwood was blamed for the whole event. A cannibal, of course, so who would the guards and Doctors believe? Little Madeline who was so quiet and meek and only wanted to get better, or the scary, bulking cannibal who constantly threatened to _eat_ those who wronged him?

It wasn't hard to guess.

You laughed louder than I had ever heard you laugh before. Your mouth opened wide and your hands slammed onto the table in honest amusement. Sionis grimaced. Dobkins giggled. 'Oh, _Mads!'_ you hollered, landing a hand on my shoulder. 'I'm never gonna get enough of you! _But-_ ' You continued to grin, mouth stretching painfully across your cheeks as you stared Greenwood down. 'Call her a bitch again, and I'll make _sure_ you'll never eat _food_ again, let alone a _person!'_ You burst out laughing once again, and I could only smile. Almost sweetly, you cradled your head and your hands, turned, and grinned at me.

Greenwood growled and went to stand, but was quickly quietened down by Sionis.

'Look, _Madeline,'_ snapped Sionis, glaring away from Jerome. 'Jerome here has _insisted_ that I treat you fairly; he said you're not going be such a _violent_ little shi-' he caught Jerome's eye and rolled his own. 'Said you're not going to get so... _frisky_ any more, around me. You do that, and you get in with me. You do me favours, I do you favours. How does that sound?'

I had thought about this, knowing that once I started to sit with the real maniacs of this place, then Doctor Isis would really start paying more attention to my out of therapy doings. Could I risk that? I had spent so long making sure that I would not be watched, as to get away with anything that I _did_ do. You knew this, and you always seemed quite impressed by my ability to do such things, but I knew full well that you wanted more from me. You wanted to see me grow and, the more I thought about it, I kind of wanted to do the same. More than anything, _for me._

I looked at you out of the corner of my eye and saw you give a small, barely noticeable nod of your head. Impulse told me trust you. Everything told me to trust you. In there, in Arkham, you forget that there are people out in the world who would think that idea ridiculous.

I shrugged. 'Alright'. A man like Sionis would hate such a blasé reaction so his apparent _gallant_ offer to me. The idea gave me more joy that it probably should have.

Sionis sighed in annoyance whilst Greenwood leaned back in an unimpressed manner. You, on the other hand, looked at me like everything was falling into place exactly how you wanted it to.

'Now that _that's_ sorted-' And they began to talk about mundane things. Greenwood boasted about the women he had killed and how he ate them, all the while throwing me sideways looks. I glared furiously at him and bared my teeth, whereas Sionis simply told the brute to sit away from me if he could not handle the attitudes of a teenage girl. _Teenage girl._ Like I was nothing, Jerome. Like I was a petty fly in their space. Little did they know.

I felt you then. I knew you had most likely grown as bored with the conversation as I had, so perhaps it was some kind of excitement you were looking for. Why, of course, you could not simply suggest terrorizing the guards or starting a riot, I will never know. So, instead, you had put me in the awful position of gasping loudly when your hand practically dove up my skirt and curled around my right knee. Sionis, who sat opposite me, gave me an annoyed look before turning away and continuing to brag to Greenwood, Dobkins and the ever quiet Helzinger about something.

Next to me, you breathed out of your nose.

I reached for a book that had been thrown across the other side of the table, just past your elbow, but you stopped me by reaching for it yourself with your free hand. I took the book quietly and met your eyes and bit my tongue at you, watching as you smirked beautifully.

Very slowly, your fingers dripped to the inside of my thigh, pulling my legs that little bit further apart. I had never been so aware of how many people were in a room, nor more aware of every letter that had been printed onto the book in front of me. I bowed my head, hair falling over my shoulders, and stared hard at the words that meant nothing to me.

Your fingers played up and up, so slowly that I'm sure you don't realise how much it _hurt._ I wanted you. I wanted you like any human being would want someone like you. Do you know how long it had been since I had felt something like that, Jerome? I was completely devoid of such feelings. But you...oh, _you._ With your long legs pressed against mine, and your pale fingers weaving their way up the inner expanse of my thigh...I could have come right then.

You squeezed hard enough to make me bite my lip, and that was when I'd had enough. Who were you to play me like that? I was Madeline. I was Mad, Mad Madeline who shouted at things that did not exist and who killed her mother to teach her some manners. It was when your fingers met the curve between my sex and my thigh that I decided I had given you too much control.

Lowering my right hand beneath the table, I played none of the teasing games you had decided to play. I, instead, pushed one hand over the top, high part of your thigh and reached down, fingers finding exactly what I was looking for. The talk of our friends had died into nothing in the background, nothing mattered but how warm your skin felt through the striped trousers and how dark your eyes had become when I peeked up to you. You pushed your knee hard into mine and dropped your free elbow onto the table with a thud.

I squeezed. You dropped your head. _There._

With a flourish, I pulled away my hand and plucked yours from my thigh. Patting down my dress, I had stepped away from the table and announced that I was going to spend the rest of the day in my room, reading. The others had barely bid me farewell, but with one look at your face I knew I would be in for it tomorrow.

And, oh, how I had _loved_ seeing you like that.

* * *

I didn't see you at all the next day. You know the reason, of course. You know that the moment I went into Isis' office to have my session, she sprung my father on me. I suppose, here, you can see what actually happened because I never really wanted to talk about it with you. I never really wanted to talk about it with anyone. I broke. I snapped in two.

I hadn't seen him in three years.

He was sitting in a chair opposite Isis and the moment I walked through that door he turned and looked at me and he _smiled,_ Jerome. He fucking _smiled._ Like everything was okay. Like I- like what I had done was normal. If there is anything I cannot stand, it is people treating me like I am glass, and that smile was like fucking bubble wrap.

I think that's why I liked you so much. You treated me like rubber that could not break.

People say I looked like my dad. He had dark, curly hair and green eyes, though his skin was a lot darker than mine. His jaw was square, his eyes were round and there seemed to be grey seeping into the darkness of his hair like snow. I spied at him, startled at how old he suddenly looked. Where had my smiling father gone? I had killed my mother for him, to make him happier, but the three years that I had not seen him seemed to have aged him beyond belief.

'Madeline,' he said, breathless and glassy eyed.

I shook my head and looked at Isis. 'I said no,' I told her. 'I. Said. _No'._

Isis nodded. 'I understand that, Madeline, but you have a habit of not trying things. I thought, perhaps, if you saw your father you might change your mind. He has already agreed to leave if you want him too, haven't you Mister Drake?' He said yes, I think, but all I could hear was your laugh playing over and over in my head when I told you that I had killed my mother. All I could hear was _you._

I scowled at him and barged into the chair beside him. 'Well then, _dad,_ how does it feel to see me, huh? Do I looked different? Do I remind you of _mom?'_

He flinched.

'Madeline,' Isis warned. She hadn't seen me like that before. I wonder if she had been surprised. 'If this is going to work-'

'I didn't want this to work!' I snapped, turning on her. My father placed his hand on his knees and stared at me. He was shaven and wearing a smart, pressed suit. He never used to wear suits. 'I wanted to stay here and never see my family again! I wanted to be _quiet!'_ I sneered and turned to him, practically _spitting_ I was so infuriated. 'I did it for _you,_ you ungrateful bastard! I did it so that you could be _happy!'_

My father shook his head sadly. _He felt sorry for me._ 'I loved your mother, Madeline. It's only recently that I have come to terms with what you did. You are my daughter-'

'No. No. No. No. I don't want you. I want no one. Leave. Me. Alone'. I scratched at my arms and I yanked at the hem of my dress. 'I'd like to leave, I'd like to go-' It was then that I saw it. The gold band that was wrapped around his ring finger, new looking and shiny and nothing like the one he wore three years ago. I stared at it, mouth agape and something like happiness floating inside of me. 'You remarried?'

He started and Isis leaned back. I saw her hand resting below her desk, most likely on the buzzer that would notify the guards if I lost it. Almost as if he had forgotten it was there, my father stared at the ring. 'Yes'. He looked back at me. 'Yes, I did. Her name is Sharon, Madeline'. He swallowed. 'She has two children. Barry and Harleen'.

'Does she hurt you?' I asked. _Like she did,_ I added silently. My father shook his head, swallowing hard and looking at me like he kind of _got it._ I stared. This was what I had wanted, Jerome. I wanted him to be happy, so why did I feel so bitter? 'I don't want to meet them,' I told him.

My father nodded. 'I wouldn't want you to'. I appreciated his honesty, but it was then that I realized I felt nothing for the man before me; this utter and complete stranger. I knew he thought the same of me. Where had his daughter gone; the girl who used to climb trees and beg him to read her wonderful stories? I couldn't remember when I had stopped thinking of him as my father, but I knew it had been a long time ago. Perhaps around the same time he stopped thinking of me as his daughter.

'I don't want to see you again'. Isis sighed. My father nodded. I thought he might cry. 'Thank you for coming, though'. When he left, he took with him an umbrella and left me a small bar of chocolate. My favourite as a child. The idea that he remembered such a thing should have been heart-warming to me, but it only made me remember what once had been and what could never be again. He left, and to my surprise, I found myself muttering, 'Bye dad'.

I never saw him again, you know. I also gave Isis that half melted bar of chocolate.

I could be nice. Sometimes.

* * *

 **What do you think? Did you see what I wanted you to see? ;) Review, and thank you so much for the ones that I have reviewed! I'm in shock I have so many with only two chapters! Thank you, thank you! Let us mourn Jerome by remembering what an awesome character he was.**


	4. Taste

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Four:_

Taste

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

You were standing outside my room room when the guard unlocked it. Your eyes were the first I saw that morning, hard and unblinking and latching onto my face like a limpet. I wondered if you saw the bags under my eyes, or even the redness on my lip from where I had been gnawing at it all night. For some reason, the meeting with my father had played in my mind over and over, almost giving me a damn headache.

The guard stepped back and grunted at us to hurry, but you simply tutted at him and said, 'No, _Henry._ Don't you remember? Madeline and I are on laundry room together today, aren't we?' you waggled your brows and Henry growled at you, telling you to _shut up kid._

'Know how much trouble I could get in kid, huh?' Henry was an grumpy, ugly man who liked nothing more than to step back and let us inmates get on with whatever it was we liked to do. I think the most he cared about was whether we murdered each other or not but, other than that, he was as cool as a cucumber. Thankfully, he was normally the guy who checked up on our block at the Asylum.

You looked at me, smiled tightly, an turned away with a spin of your heel. You darked your tone quickly and gave him a hard, dark glance. 'Remember the _twenty, uh, grand_ Sionis will drop into your account if you do me a _freakin_ ' favour, _Hen'._ Upon Henry turning and sighing, you clapped your hands and sighed. 'Come, come, Madeline. We _do_ need to talk'.

We didn't on the way to the laundry room, though. You talked to Henry, of course. You blabbed on and on about money, the weather and what it felt like to kill your own mother. You did this to only amuse Henry, I think, because you knew it was near impossible to get a reaction out of the ape. The man simply did not care about what we did or how we got into the Asylum. He was numb. He was unbiased. He was what I hoped so desperately I would not turn into.

'Look, no silly shit, alright? I'll be down the hall doin' some rounds, Valeska. Get on with your shit and be quick about it, I got a job to keep'. Why Henry needed the job, I'll never know. Surely Sionis had paid him enough money in favours by then that he could live a pretty good life without the shitty Asylum job? I never really voiced it back then, but I always kinda respected Henry and his complete 'give a shit' attitude about everything. For a sane man, the Asylum was a lot to handle.

You smacked your palms together once the door shut behind Henry. 'Long time no see, huh, beautiful? You wanna tell me where you were yesterday?' You moved quickly with two long steps, like a lion ready to pounce. I blinked blearily at you.

'Not really, Jerome'. I was tired. I was very, very tired.

You frowned. 'That's rude, beautiful. Jerome only wants to know how his Madeline is doing, ain't that allowed now?' You patted both my cheeks and smiled. 'C'mon. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon._ Tell me what happened - you were gone all day and the next time I see you you're actin' like the world is ending!' You pressed a hand to your chest. 'It isn't, is it? 'Cause I sure did miss the memo'.

For the first time ever, you were genuinely annoying me. Before I could stop myself (impulse, impulse, impulse), my hand connected with your chest in a gentle push. 'Jerome, just leave me for a second'. My head hurt. My head really hurt. I felt oddly alone and complete because I knew, I knew, I knew that I was finally done. What did they call it? _Closure._

Pushing you had been, apparently, the wrong thing to do. It was then, in that moment, that I learnt you did not like to lose physical control. You caught my wrist in a vice like grip and squeezed, dipping your head to mine and _still you were smiling._ 'Mad. Mad. _Madeline._ We don't _hit,_ do we?' You laughed in my face, mouth wide and teeth shining. 'When did I _ever_ say that hitting was allowed, _hmmmm_?'

I yanked away from you. 'Don't talk to me like that, Jerome. You knew who I was beneath the silence, don't act like this now'.

You paused, hand still mid-air. You did not breathe. Then, with a great hoot, you laughed your _fucking_ head off. 'True, _true!_ Oh, _Mads,_ I waited a while to see this side of you, didn't I? All angry and stomping feet - and, might I say, you are a _beautiful_ woman when you're red with rage'. You winked at me and ran a hand through your ginger hair. I loved your hair, but right then I had very nearly hated you.

You were like terror seeping into my bones and, like any threat to me, I came on the defence and bared my teeth at you 'Don't, Jerome,' I warned, not wanting you too close, not wanting you to have that control you had been pushing so hard to get. You could only smirk at me, laugh bubbling behind your closed lips and eyes shadowed in that dark humour you always wore. I wondered what you were thinking in that moment.

You scooted your feet along the floor, hips moving in an exaggerated, mocking manner. 'Mad-Mad- _Madeline,_ you could hurt a guys feelings talking to him like that'. You held a hand to your heart and licked your lips and tilted your chin upward. Your teeth glinted in the artificial light. 'Y'know, _Mads,_ this is the first time we've been _alone_ together, _ain't it?'_

My stomach dropped. _Don't tempt me, Jerome._ You knew, though, didn't you? You knew that once my _want_ found it's focus, I would think and think and think about that until it was all I could _fucking_ think about. In that moment - in that wash room, with the doors of the washing machines swung open and the light constantly buzzing above us - all I had wanted to do was _taste you._ You made me mad with rage, you made me mad with want.

You stopped before me, so much taller and so much bigger. Your mouth was still curved into that knowing little smile and, oh, how I _hated_ the control you always had. How I _hated_ the knowing, mocking looks you would always send my way and, oh, _fuck fuck fuck._ I licked my bottom lip, just _staring_ at you, and watched as your eyes followed the motion. Unblinking. Always so unblinking.

'We don't have long,' you warned, and I'd wondered if you'd finally lost your patience. You were human, after all, under all of that crazy.

I had stepped forward before you could make the first move, hand twisting into the stripes of your shirt and mouth landing on yours, all the while pushing myself up onto tiptoes. Your mouth had been dry and stiff at first, surprised, perhaps, that I had made the first decision on where the occasion was going. Very quickly, you turned back into _you._ Both of your hands landed on my hips and, to my utter delight, your fingers curled round and pressed hard into the curve of my behind. You jutted my body forward with impatience.

Your mouth moved against mine and all I could do was _grin._

Despite me making the first move, it was you who took charge after that. I was very quickly pushed against the back wall by your taller, towering form. Your head dipped, causing red hair to tickle my cheeks, and your mouth met my neck whilst your body pushed much closer to mine. Heat pooled into the pit of my stomach with a want that I had not felt so intimately in a very long time.

I craved you more than I had craved _anything_ before.

I gasped loudly and swore at you when your teeth dug deep into the space between my neck and shoulder, though I can't remember exactly what words came out of my mouth. Whatever they were, they caused you to look up and meet my heated gaze and, for the first time, I saw just how undone you truly were. How _real._ Your eyes had been blown to a dark black, your cheeks (for once) held a small amount of colour and, to my surprise, there was blood on your bottom lip. Had you ever done this before? Had you?

'How hard did you bite me?' I asked, startled at how breathy my voice had become.

You leaned forward mouth pressing hard against mine. 'Not hard enough, beautiful'. You kissed madly and unexpectedly, starting at my neck and ending at my cheekbones. Splotches of light, pink blood followed your crazed path. I could only lean against the wall and let you, one hand still holding the front of your shirt and the other holding tightly onto your arm.

I wanted more of you.

I pulled you closer, reminding myself suddenly that we did not have long and that situations like this would continue to be rare. I kissed _you._ I _bit_ you. You laughed and you cooed and you grabbed my chin and kissed me hard in return. I tasted copper. I tasted _you._ The closer your tall form came to mine, the more I felt how excited you had become with the chaos we were creating between us.

The heat _scorched_ my belly.

The hand - _your hand -_ that had been resting on my waist suddenly lowered and rounded my hip, yanking it over yours so suddenly that I swore and yelped. 'Jerome,' I admonished, causing you to laugh and cackled and breath into my ear. You bit my lobe and licked my neck.

There was no stopping you once you started.

The space between my legs was open wider for you now; the dress hiked up to my thigh whilst my other leg was yanked up by your other hand. I wondered what you looked like, under those clothes, to have such strength. Had you done hard labour at the circus? Is that why you could handle my weight? You moved your hips and my breath caught in my throat so loudly that I blushed brightly at your amused stare.

Your breath, sweet and tangy, was hot over my lips. I could feel _you,_ pressed against the material of my white, Arkham administered underwear, hard and so close and-and- 'Jerome,' I very nearly whined, and I had been mortified at the sound of my voice like that. You kissed my neck, you squeezed hard where your hands held my thighs but, not once, did you move anything below the waist.

Finally, you leant your forehead against mine. I opened my eyes, having not even realised I'd closed them, and looked at you. Black eyes, pink cheeks, messy red hair, red lips. 'Yes, beautiful?'

' _Please'._

You moved, hips thrusting into mine in such a teasing manner. I groaned and mewed and you - you breathed in deeply through your nose and when I looked at you your eyes were screwed shut. I moved against you, watching through half open eyes as your mouth opened to let out small, sharp breaths. Had you ever even been close to anyone like this before? I didn't dare ask.

Your hands slid round to my buttocks and pushed me closer; quicker. The sensation that brought very nearly had me calling out your name. I could see that you were close. I could see the pink in your cheeks growing. Finally, at the end, you pushed your hips against mine and groaned out something that might have been my name, but might also have been a curse. I was surprised you could even manage to hold me up, in all honesty.

When you pulled your moist forehead from the curve of my neck, I expected you to let me go and allow me to pull my dress down over my underwear, but you just looked at me, pupils now the size of pinpricks. You just _looked_ at me. I finally saw the dark hue of blue. You licked your lips and, slowly, let my legs fall to the floor. Before my feet could even hit the ground, you said, 'I'm not done yet, beautiful. You gave me mine, now I give you yours'.

I had barely given you anything but a body to rut against. I blinked blearily, watching as you dropped to your knees. You, on your knees, before _me._

Perfect.

You used both hands to push up the length of my striped dress, all the while never breaking eye contact with me as I looked down at you. I took the material in my hands and breathed quickly, my mind buzzing with the moment and the feeling and oh, _oh_. The heat in my stomach flared, the moistness in my underwear quickened. 'You don't have to,' I murmured.

You clucked your tongue and grinned at me. ' _Madeline,_ don't _deny_ me of this pleasure, _will_ you?' We didn't have long. You wove your fingers through my underwear, pulling them down quickly and catching them on my feet, barely caring if you tripped me. You had a task, now, and all you wanted was to get going with it. You hiked the dress up higher, looking away from my face and instead to your aim. Bringing one leg over your shoulder, almost carefully, you lowered your head.

I could have given myself a concussion, you know, with how quickly I leant my head back and banged it on the wall. How you knew what you were doing and how you knew it so well, I will never know, but you worked me like I was a well known instrument to you. You had me gasping and swearing and reciting a prayer under my breath, Jerome. You undid me and wove me together again - your own little plaything.

It didn't take me long to come. With your fingers and mouth working at me, I came hard and fast, only looking down once I heard your demand of, 'look at me, Madeline'. I did. I looked down at you and saw your wet mouth give into a smile as I came around your fingers. I very nearly fell onto you, limbs like spaghetti and heart hammering inside of me. You knelt before me still, long legs pressing knees painfully into mine in my awkward position on the floor.

' _Jerome,'_ I breathed, finally looking at you.

I remember how you looked at me then. You looked at me like I was _good_. Like I was a penny you found on the floor on a shitty day. Like I was sun peeking through a cloudy sky. I shut my mouth and I wiped the sweat from my brow and leant forward, hand balancing on your leg, and I kissed you. I kissed you then because I did not know when I could next do it, and because I _wanted to._

 _'C'mere,'_ you had muttered, using your sleeve to wipe away at the light pink stains on my cheek and neck. When you were done, you had looked at me with something I could never decipher. What had it been, Jerome? Confusion? Worry? _Disappointment?_ Either way, for some reason I had understood exactly what the look had meant, even though I could not pinpoint the emotion. I think it may have been something close to terror, because I had, after so long, found something I did not want to lose.

I don't know if you felt the same. It was unlikely.

Five minutes later, the guard came in. Henry had sniffed the air, rolled his eyes and told us that _we better actually get on with some laundry if we wanted to carry on getting away with shit like this._ At the mention of such trips happening again, you caught my eye whilst folding some striped and winked at me, mouth stretching into a mocking, over-done grin.

I knew you would going to only make me madder, perhaps even kill me.

But I had grinned madly back you all the same.

* * *

 **Boom. I hope you liked! I might not be able to update until the middle of next week because I'm going on a little trip on Friday, but those reviews might push me to write a chapter on the train ;) thank you for the ones sent already, they make me smile every time! Love you guys!**


	5. Pretty

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Five:_

Pretty

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

You touched me a lot after that.

I think, before, you had been keeping me under the pretence that you would not harm me. No, no. Maybe that's not the right way to word it. Perhaps you had been hiding your fast and grabby hands from me, simply because you did not know whether I would accept them. You were smart in that way, like me - you hid what you were not sure people would accept. Well, people you _needed_ , anyway.

It wasn't primarily _affectionate_ touching, as you know. Just sly touches against my thigh, tugs on my hair, hands on my shoulders - that kind of thing. But it was noticeable, it was there. It was, without a doubt, known to every guard and inmate that you were mine and I was, above all else, yours.

We'd been sitting where we all normally sat in the big, filthy hall as we ate. Unfortunately, I was sitting opposite the ever pleasant Greenwood who chose to shovel food in his mouth in a way that, by far, beat your quick eating habits. I no longer picked at my food like a bird, but ate at a pace that finally pleased you enough to leave me alone at meal times, though I would still often feel (like I had then) your fingers play on my knee as you ate with one hand, head ducked as you stared hard at your tray.

'You're getting fat,' Greenwood remarked around a mouthful of mash potato.

I paused, only realizing that he had been talking to me when I caught his toad-like eyes staring at me. 'Am I?' I inquired, tone bored and fork pointing at him. Your fingers played faster on my knee. The comment hadn't bothered me, of course. I was actually enjoying the extra fat around my thighs and skin tight tummy. The Asylum got cold sometimes. 'Fatter than you?' You barked out a laugh, mouth full of food.

Greenwood grimaced at the sound. I had practically _seen_ the idea of what to say next come into his head as he grinned, cheeks rounding. 'Jugs are getting pretty big too, now'. With mild interest, I had seen Sionis glance downward and raise his eyebrows. Disgusting.

I hadn't cared for the comment at all. If anyone else had said such a thing to me then, yeah, I probably would have leant across that table and throttled them. Because it was Greenwood, I took it as a child throwing around words that they did not yet know how to use. But you - oh, _you._ I was yours, wasn't I? You were the only one that could touch me or look at me or talk about my _jugs._ So, of course, you got pissed.

Your fingers curled around my knee and you _squeezed._

Looking up, you had said, 'Green _wood._ You know how comments like _that_ are gonna end, old _buddy_ old _pal'._ Your teeth were like a sharks, your eyes like coal. Sionis watched on in mild interest, whereas Helzinger looked quite worried in his mad little mind. Your nails dug into my knee. I saw the plastic knife twist in your other hand. I knew what you could do with such a mediocre weapon - _anything._ Carefully, so the other men would not see, I lowered my hand and twisted it into yours beneath the table.

Making sure you noted the minor amount of affection, I then dug my nails into your skin. _A warning. Don't do it. You will get in trouble. You need to lay low with me._ Impulse was telling me no. Wait.

There was silence. Greenwood glared at you. Sionis smirked a little. I let go of your hand.

You grinned and twisted the knife, dropping it onto the table. Helzinger seemed to breathe again, where as Richard Sionis looked vaguely disappointed. 'I'll remember it thought,' you said, still grinning wide. The words were forced out of your mouth, as if you were putting such effort into not gritting your teeth and attacking him. 'I'll _remember,_ Greeny'.

As would I. I bit the air at him, grinning wide at his frustrated look which, in a split second, seemed to melt away to something he saw over my shoulder. Upon inspection, I noticed that every man's face along the opposite side of the table seemed to melt into a look of awe, happiness or downright surprise. Greenwood twisted his mouth into a sickening smile.

You and I both turned in unison and I felt your fingers cease in their consistent playing on my leg. With you looking over your left shoulder and me looking over my right, we were both very nearly forehead to forehead as I spied out the most glamorous woman I had seen in a very long time. She was a splash of colour in the mundane greys, whites and blacks that my tired eyes were so used to seeing. Blonde hair, white skin and big, round sunglasses that took up nearly half her face.

You have to understand, Jerome, when I entered the world of Asylum's and uniforms, I was sixteen. I had been young, skinny and more concerned with the fact that I had murdered my own mother than with how men looked at me. Because of that, I let my hair grow into a frizz, I let my skin grow paler and paler and I let my ribs show through my skin. I didn't care about what I looked like. Then I grew. I got older. I cared less and less.

Then I met you. Beautiful and red and white and black. You made me care.

Seeing her, seeing how you looked at her, it brought out that pathetic flare of _want_ in me - a want to be something more beautiful and light, you know? I was paranoid - my Doctors told me so - and with a minor peak to you, I saw how dark your eyes had gotten.

What if I lost you? You were mine. I could not have that.

The woman bowed her a head a little and lowered her glasses, allowing blue eyes to glint very quickly at us. She looked to you, then to me. She had an air of royalty, you know? Something beyond what we had encountered in a very long time - something beyond what _you_ had _ever_ encountered. Of course, I knew the kind of family she came from. Although my family was not one of Gotham's elite, we were known for my mothers charity events and stalls she would set up at kitsch little markets.

I could tell if you were looking at her like you wanted to fuck her, kill her or find out what made that beautiful woman end up in a place like Arkham.

Had you grown bored of me?

'I want _that,'_ Sionis proclaimed once she had disappeared from you, escorted by the Arkham guards into her new cell. 'You're a woman,' he said, dark eyes landing me. I turned to him and shuffled my knee away from you.

'Well noted'. My tone had more of a bite to it. No, no. My anger made me do silly things. My impulse called for me to slam your head into the table for looking at her like that.

'Talk to her. For me'.

I blinked. For once, something other than the crazed cackling I shared with you bubbled in my throat, something like honest _amusement._ I coughed out a laugh. 'What the hell do you want me to say to her, _Richard_? Ask her to prom?'

Dobkins giggled.

Sionis sneered in disdain. 'No. I would like you to offer her what I offered you, only...make sure she knows there's something more _exclusive_ about it. Make her know she'll be... _mine_ '. What was it with these men and thinking women needed some kind of ownership in places like Arkham? I had handled myself for three years before you came along and marked me as your territory. _Honestly_.

'If you want someone charismatic enough to pull that off, you're going to want Jerome to talk to her'. I pushed my food away from me, suddenly not very hungry.

You had licked your lips and stretched your hands out in front of you. 'Now, uh, _that_ I can do, _Rich'._ You winked at him. 'I mean, you do _ruuule_ this joint, right? Why _wouldn't_ she want you, big man?'

'Sounds like sarcasm,' drawled Greenwood.

I glared at him and snapped, 'You're just _full_ of wisdom today, aren't you?' I bit my tongue and looked back to Sionis. 'We'll _both_ talk to her. There's too many men in this place, you're right, another woman could be good at breaking the ice'. I looked to you, eyes sharp and mouth tight. 'Is that okay with you?'

You looked at me like you knew _exactly_ what was going through my head. I think you enjoyed it. You smiled brilliantly. 'Of course, beautiful!' Bastard. You really were such a little bastard sometimes.

* * *

She was sitting in the recreational room, much later, with her legs crossed and her dress falling elegantly around her. Now that her sunglasses no longer donned her face, it was easier to see the curve of her nose and the wideness of her light eyes. You, of course, walked quickly ahead of me whilst tugging at the buckle of your trousers in a 'masculine' manner. You turned to look back at me and winked.

Throwing yourself into the chair opposite her, you practically _chirped_ out, 'Hey, gorgeous, _I'm_ Jerome'. I stood back, at the end of the table, and crossed my arms.

She barely looked up from the magazine she was reading. 'Keep moving, ginger'. Despite how she spoke to you, I kind of liked her immediately. She had none of that shifty eyed nervousness that so many new inmates had in Arkham - no, she was strong, she was disinterested, she was so... _blasé._ Good. She would need that to survive in Arkham.

You grinned manically. 'Just trying to be _polite,'_ you bit out. 'So what you in for?' I always liked the way you talked; like you couldn't wait to get the words out of your mouth fast enough. You spoke like you were _mad -_ I wonder if that's how I sounded.

Still, she did not look up from her magazine. From the way she was flipping the pages, I could only assume that she was trying to create an act of indifference. _No one_ could read that quickly. 'I killed my parents,' she drawled out, eyes downcast and chin sticking out.

This, of course, peaked my interest. I looked harder at her, trying to peak out any ounce of a lie. She was like stone, Jerome. I hated that. I needed animation and loud voices and laughter. You suddenly became excited and planted your hands on the table, turning to look at her more fully. 'Oh! _Us_ too'. You looked at me and smiled cheekily. ' _Well, mom's_ anyhow. Liberating, right?' You held your hand to your face in aggression. 'What a rush!'

First I gave you a bored look, then her. I mean, _really?_

' _Yeah_ , alrighty then'.

I was bored. You always did have a knack for drawing the conversation away from the actual _point_ of the conversation, didn't you? 'Look,' I started, rounding the table to stand closer to you. My hip met just below your elbow, and I felt your reach around and tug the end of my dress. Were you reassuring me? 'You see that man, just over there? The painfully _generic_ good looking guy'. She looked up at me, eyes scanning over my face and body, then to Sionis. 'Yeah, the one who looks like he wants to bone you right here, right now-'

'Ever the _lady_ with your words, _Mads_ ,' you said, hands clenched together in front of you. 'The gentlemen looking at you like you're, uh, _fried chicken'._

I blinked at her, bit my tongue, and carried on. 'Yeah. That's Richard Sionis'.

You crossed your legs and leant back casually. 'He's a millionaire. Y'know, guy only owns an aeroplane and a boat with a _hot tub_ on it'. You ducked forward and your red hair fell over your face. 'Oh, and he killed twenty-five people'. You scoffed. 'Just for _fun'._

I could tell that you were talking to her all wrong. I understood people. It was part of the glory of my madness - I could read people damn fucking well, and you knew I could.

The woman looked at you and raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. ' _So what?'_

You placed your hands near her and smiled in the friendliest manner you could. 'So - he _likes_ you, he wants to be your _friend'._

'Hmm, lemme think - _no'._

'A girl needs a good _friend_ in here,' you insisted, punctuating your sentence with a hand curling around the back of my knee. 'See, the guards - they don't care. They figure bad things happen to bad people. And they happen all the time _...all the time._ Just last week a girl was attacked in the _laundry room_ , of _all_ places'. You practically hissed out the last words and your fingernails pressed into my leg.

I pinched your shoulder whilst she looked out at Sionis and glared at you. _Attacked?_ Don't make me laugh. You pulled away your hand and grinned like a sadist.

No. Nope. Me. Me time. 'He wants to be your _friend,_ alright?' I started, catching her attention and lowering my hands onto the table next to yours. 'You're not stupid, it's pretty fucking easy to _see_ that you're not stupid. You know what having a friend in here means, especially with a guy who likes to think he's the King of Arkham Asylum. I spent three years not having a friend, and it's pretty easy to get in shit when you have no one to _protect_ you-' Lies, of course. I looked after myself fine. I may not have brawn, but I have brains.

She surprised me though, as you remember. She called over Helzinger, of all people, slender arm raised and fingers snapping him to attention. I saw the sleazy grin fall over his face like a happy, horny Labrador and couldn't help but smirk. Carefully, though, I lowered my head slightly as Helzinger made his way over and hissed to you, 'You are _severely_ mistaken if you think you're to belittle me to a stranger when I made you come in your pants like a fucking seventh grader'.

You turned your head purposefully, eyes level with mine, and grinned slowly.

The woman spun out of her seat with a twirl and made her way over to Helzinger, skirts swishing around her. Helzinger, so used to mistreatment and the gruffness of men, eyed the pretty little thing before him with mistrust and apprehension.

She greeted him and smiled sweetly, finally introducing herself as _Barbara._ Funny, I pegged her for something a little more flowery, didn't you? Well, I wasn't entirely sure if you were thinking about that, because you were paying attention the situation before us with such intensity that I don't even think you realized where you hand was resting over my dress.

Barbara continued to stare up at Helzinger with wide blue eyes. 'Would you be my friend?'

There was no pause in Helzinger's reply. 'Yes'.

You lowered you head onto your hand and smiled, watching this Barbara with something akin to interest and respect. I could understand that. She was smart, she knew exactly what she was doing and how to use the pretty face. I could appreciate that kind of intelligence in a woman. I smiled slowly.

'If someone here tired to _hurt_ me-' The smile fell from Helzinger's face '-would you protect me?' She used a voice I had used to many time before on my therapists.

'Yes'.

I looked down, caught your eye, and saw your smile grow. _Finally,_ we were both thinking. _Someone who isn't a complete fucking idiot._

'Thank you _so much,'_ Barbara gushed. Reaching up, she planted her finger lightly on the much bigger man's nose and grinned, giggling lightly. 'You cutie'. She spun away from him, planted herself back in the chair and said, voice much closer to her _real_ one, 'There, now I have a friend'.

You grinned at her, eyes dark and mouth stretched. 'You're _bad'._

'Yeah, so why don't you go make me a sandwich'. Looking momentarily away from our face, she caught my smirking, appreciative one and paused, glancing me up and down. No, no. I was supposed to be pushing her toward _Sionis,_ not _Helzinger._ Helzinger, who had the mental capacity of a five year old child. Or monkey.

'Your friend is a gorilla,' you said, voice slow as if talking to an infant. 'Our friend runs the joint. And he can get you things that _other people_ can't _get you'._ It was true, of course. I'd had to go through he embarrassing ordeal of asking Sionis to get me some tampons that weren't made of fucking paper. He'd never let me forget _that one._

That peaked her interest. 'Things like what?'

I pushed my frizzy hair behind one shoulder and lowered my head to her height. 'Anything you want. Anything you _need_ '.

She leant closer to the both us. 'I need a telephone'. And you had grinned because, yes, you had done it again. No, _we_ had done it. We told her it was _done_ and pushed her toward Sionis and the other men, introducing her and watching as Sionis smirked and pushed the others aside, leaving a giant gap for her small body to fill. I watched Helzinger's face fall and I watched Dobkin's sniff at her like the creep he was.

I also felt your breath next to my ear as you murmured, 'Come with me'.

No one took note of us leaving. They were so used to our random disappearing acts as you would always drag me off to some far away place to rant and rave and laugh and cackle. You liked having me as your audience, I think. I don't know why. Maybe because you knew I _got it_. Maybe because you knew I wanted to think the same, I just hadn't been able to use my mind in such a way for so long.

I went with you and gave Henry a meaningful look as we past. The guard merely rolled his eyes and leant against the wall, waving us by as we went. You were erratic - more so than I had ever seen you. You held onto my wrist like a vice and dragged me after you, taking turn after turn and stopping every time you heard the squeak of a shoe against the flooring. I knew what you wanted - I had seen it in your eyes since I had whispered in your ear...you did love it when I spoke to you like that.

Who knew, huh? Jerome Valeska liked his women strong.

'This parts still being, uh, _renovated,'_ you said, voice jumping octaves. You held my shoulder and pushed me against the wall. We were at the end of a corridor where the windows were still boarded up and the lights were sill not working. Behind us, I could see the outline of a doorway that must have once been there. Alone. You and I. You jumped when I touched your jaw, as if you had forgotten I was there. Finally, you grinned. 'You're pretty _hot_ when you're jealous, _Mads._ All _touchy,_ and _such language-'_

I slammed my mouth against yours and tugged you forward so roughly that I think I even surprised myself. You responded eagerly, hands lowering as low as they could go, then running straight back up to my shoulders and jaw. You kissed everywhere, as you always did, focussing closely on my collarbones. Every inch of you touched me, and every inch of me touched you. It was in that moment that I wondered if I could ever get enough of you, but I squashed that thought that thought like a bug - I had survived this long in such horrible places because I did not get attached to people.

But then...you - _you_ happened, didn't you?

* * *

 **This chapter was a little more focussed on Madeline's emotions and mind, I know. We'll get back to the fun stuff next chapter, I promise. Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews and favourites and follows, I really appreciate them! Like always, follow me on tumblr (qarlgrimes) and review some more!**

 **Chow.**


	6. Matricide

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Six:_

Matricide

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

My mother was a very good mom, once. She used to make me the best tuna, sweetcorn and cheese sauce pasta when I was younger - every Friday at 6 o'clock on the dot. I knew my dad didn't really like the meal, but he knew it was my favourite thing to come home from school to just before the start of the weekend, so he'd eat it. Because there was only three of us, we'd sit around the head of the table, leaving the long length of it bare.

When I hit thirteen, I finally understood the sad looks my mother used to send that way. You see, my mom always wanted a big family. I think that's why my parents saved their money so much; so they could afford such a thing. In the end, though, I fucked up my mom's insides so bad coming out of her that she could never have kids again.

I mean, you can kind of understand why she resented me a little. I ruined the _one_ big dream she had.

I think I got older, more independent, more stuck in my own head. I read too much, I watched too many films - I immersed myself in something far away from reality to distract myself from the things I wanted (needed, needed, needed) to do. She'd always walk in on me smashing a plate on the floor or burning the end of a spoon, simply because my head was telling me to. She figured out I was nuts, and that was that. She was done with me.

She started shouting then. She'd claw at my dad's face whenever he defended me or hid me from her moods. He protected me, my dad. The best he could, anyway. I knew he was a coward, even then. I knew that he could have just walked away with me and left my mother to sadness and anger, but he stayed and helped her and tried hard to fix what had happened (what I had done) to our family.

Then I killed the bitch and fixed everything pretty quickly.

She nagged too much, you know?

I said these exact words to you, do you remember? I told you exactly what happened, because you had wanted to know. You wanted to know how I did it (I waited until her back was turned after she had yelled at me about a missing a homework assignment, then played the fork into the side of her neck) and why I did it. You wanted to know how I got caught. You wanted to know how I _felt._

We were on laundry duty again when I finally asked you. 'Jerome, why _did_ you kill your mom?'

You enjoyed the question greatly. You were all animated as you spoke, dropping the clothes you had been folding and waving your hands about as you told the tale of your whore mother. 'She liked to, uh, _fuck,_ my mom,' you informed me, as if this was the most casual fact in the world. I slid onto the table top and watched you stand before me, all long legs and precise steps. 'All the time, ever since I was just a _kid'._ You peered at me, gaze playful. 'I thought I was above such _primal needs_ until I met _you, Mad. Mad._ _Madeline'._

I gazed at you, only slightly amused.

'Right, _right._ Well, these men she would bring home _\- violent,'_ you told the story as if you had been waiting to for so long and, like everything you said, it was like a well rehearsed monologue of smiles, hand gestures and wide eyed surprises. 'Never really liked me. None of 'em. So, after eighteen years of her nagging, fornicating and _coooonstant_ drinking, I thought I'd put her out of her misery'. You shrugged. ' _Hooonestly_ , woman didn't even look that surprised!'

I snorted out a laugh. 'But, you don't regret it, do you?'

It was, perhaps, the most serious conversation we had ever had. You strode over to me after sending me a concerned look (more concerned for my sanity, ironically) and grabbed each of my knees, pulling them apart and slipping your hips between them. I accommodated you with welcome. You face hovered above mine, eyebrows drawn together and eyes narrowed. 'Why - _why_ would I regret such a thing, beautiful?'

I nodded, pleased with the answer. 'Good. Because _I_ don't, and I _don't_ want to be crazier than you'.

You grinned wide and crazily and took my hands in your own, yanking me off of the table. You spun me about, and I never felt more...more _happy_ than I had in that moment, with my skirts floating about me like a striped optical illusion. 'Who the _heck_ said I was crazy, huh Mads?' You drew me close, stopped the spinning, and nipped at my ear. 'Greenwood, now _he's_ crazy. And Sionis. And Dobkins. And Helzinger. Us? We're just...' you drew away and grinned manically. 'A little _erratic'._

'Erratic?' I inquired, head bowed in mock interest. 'I like that'.

You grinned. 'So do I'.

* * *

That was our last day in Arkham, little did we know.

That day, around two o'clock in the afternoon, we sat in the recreational room, surrounding one table. Barbara, now a fixed member in our little _group,_ lay across Sionis whilst Helzinger painted her nails a bright, florescent pink colour. Like everyday, the only sound was the mixed lull of the crazies drifting over the quietness, the scraping of gates as they opened and closed and the sound of you humming some tune under your breath.

You were a little on edge. We'd been _so close_ to yanking off each others clothes in the laundry room, but Henry had chosen that exact time to barge back down the hallway into the hot room. You'd had taken it upon himself to yank down my dress and kiss my neck sweetly, promising to continue later on. Later had not come, and your hand was a constant fixture on my upper thigh.

Yes, we were playing that game again.

Only this time, you was going for gold, weren't you?

Barbara sighed loudly. 'Someone tell me a funny story'. I twitched, leaning my chin heavily on my hand as your fingers played with the edge of my white underwear. I'm sure my cheeks were flushed pink by now.

Sionis complied, starting some story about his college days and some Varsity football team, or something. He was such a stereotype, it very nearly hurt. I jutted away from you, annoyed at the teasing you were giving me. It was at that moment that Zaardon entered the room. Do you remember him? He was funny - a real character.

'Greetings!' he shouted, distracting you from poking at my leg in impatience. 'I am Zaardon - the Soul Reaper!' There was a moment of brief silence in which Sionis actually stopped talking for ten seconds, a miracle in itself. I looked at you, watching as you blinked in mild interest at the chubby, odd looking man before us. Barbara seemed just as fazed as everyone else. Huh. Maybe she _would_ be okay here.

'So, I had these ponies...' carried on Sionis.

'Of _course_ you did,' I muttered, earning a short smile from Barbara.

The story carried on. For a long time. Too long, wasn't it? I stopped listening, but I remember Dobkin's being oddly invested in the tale that Sionis told. Once again, though, just as he was coming to punchline of the story, Sionis was once again interrupted.

'Hear me slaves!' Zaardon yelled once again, voice hoarse. 'My patience is wearing _thin_ \- surrender your souls to my mercy, or I swear, by the _Master_ , I shall feast on your pain. I shall _gorge_ on your torment'. I smiled prettily and rested my head on your shoulder, watching the scene unfold before me. It wasn't often that we got the crazies that were _that_ deluded. 'I shall crush you like a _bug_!'

He began to laugh. Then the laugh turned into a cough. Then it got a little worrying.

He fell, chest heaving and throat producing the oddest sounds as he tried desperately to catch his own breath. His back hit the table beneath him with a load, resounding thud, only to be followed by a mass pour of smoke from his wide open mouth. At first, I thought I was seeing things, didn't you? I mean, it wouldn't have been the first time for me. But...I remember being a little scared. It was an odd feeling. I wasn't often scared.

The moment the smoke began to pour around the room, you grabbed my elbow and yanked me away from the table, smiling a little in surprise and interest. 'Jer-' I coughed, wishing more than anything that I had not breathed in. It hurt a little, but more than anything I remember being _tired._ It was like the cloth my mom used to put over my face when I had my episodes.

I blacked out to the feel of your hand fisting into my dress and my cheek flat against the cold, metal table.

* * *

His name was Theo Galavan, and he killed Sionis. I see no point in recalling these events to you, simply because I was still a little air headed form the gas and because it annoys me how much you enjoys Sionis' death. You'd worked for him. You'd done favours for him and done as you were told you. You willingly spent time with the man. Of course, I had known full well you had done it for your own gain, but to laugh at his death? I had felt nothing at seeing the man die, but it made me think if what you would have done if I had been in Sionis' situation.

Would you have cared? Or would you have laughed to gain the respect of the man who now employed us?

Theo was a good looking, well spoken man. In that respect, he actually reminded me of Sionis. Those were the only similarities, though, because his cunning, intelligence and cruelty shined through his persona more than anything else.

He wanted us to fight Gotham. He wanted us, us crazies that be broke out of an Asylum, to work for him and terrorize the city - make it fall to our (his, his, his) knees. Who better to do such a thing than seven (now six) insane, vaguely intelligent criminals? We would do anything he wanted, because he wanted us to do the _crazy._

You, oh, you _loved_ it. There was method to the madness. There was greatness. There was intelligence. There was _glory._

We were taken out of the lavish room where we had been tied up in a row, and where Sionis had been stabbed to death by Theo's beautiful sister, Tabitha. Beautiful as she was, she was also deadly and, I could tell, unforgiving. She would literally not think twice about killing any of us if her brother told her to, and I constantly kept that in mind. Barbara took a shine to her, of course.

We were led down two levels, onto a floor which was made up of many rooms, many sizes. Upon glancing out of any window that I could see, I spied out that we were in central Gotham, quite near places like the City Bank and Wayne Tower. God, how long had it been since I had seen Gotham? How long had it been since I had been _free?_ Theo pointed to doors, insisting that we settle in, get changed into the clothes that had been supplied, and then meet him in the dining area a floor down.

Everything was clean. Everything was beautiful. Everything was civilised.

Three years.

I had not seen such things in three years.

I stayed close to you.

Theo pointed to my room, smiling at me in a manner that was too kind and too conniving. The room had been next to yours, but to my (not) surprise, you had curled a hand around my wrist and pulled me toward your room instead. With a waggle of your eyebrows at Theo, you led me into the room and away from the stiffly smiling man. At the time, I had not been sure whether I appreciated him, liked him, or distrusted him with every ounce of my being.

The rooms were huge, but that was no surprise. A large, king size bed sat in the middle of the room, fluffed up and surrounded by copious amounts of pillows. The floor was a hard, clean wood and the wardrobe could probably fit a hundred of my striped dresses.

Three years.

'There's too much...space,' I said, standing in the room with you. 'I haven't been in a room this clean in years'.

You nodded and pulled a face. ' _Huh._ Guess you _ain't,_ beautiful'. You turned and grinned and threw yourself onto the bed. 'Oh, this is gonna be _great'._

I considered you on the bed, watching the madness seep of off you and run into the seams of the room. The bed was a mess now - you left your mark everywhere you went; a little path of destruction. 'You trust him then?'

You leant back into the pillows, your shirt undone to reveal the greying one beneath. Your hair was a mess, just the way I liked it, and your eyes were lighter than I had seen them in a while. We hadn't been _that_ alone...ever. 'If he tries to double-cross us, I'll kill him. I'll destroy him and this City, and we'll walk off laughing, beautiful'.

I grinned and spun onto the bed with you.

'Holy _shit-'_

I was cut off by your mouth on my neck and your body slamming on top of mine. It didn't take long for you to entwine your legs with mine and press you abdomen hard against my own-

My comfort was broken by a swift knock at the door. You growled and withdrew your arm from my waist and hopped off of the bed whilst brushing down your clothes with a dramatic flare. I leant into the pillows as you opened the door, enjoying the feeling of a _real_ bed with _real_ pillows and, oh God, the _fun_ we were going to have in that bed - no more laundry room groping for me.

'Clothes,' you said, throwing a pile of coloured fabrics at me. I spluttered and threw them away, sitting up to catch your wide, stretching grin. You were _freer_ too. For this day, at least, we knew we could have something akin to happiness in our lives. I did, at least. I shuffled around in the bedding, watching my skirts splay about me and grinned at you. 'You _gonna_ get changed, _beautiful_?'

I clambered off of the bed in a rather unceremonious manner, practically falling onto the floor because of the height of the damn thing. Turning around, I shuffled through the clothes and listened as you walked over the wardrobe and throw the doors open. I settled on black jeans and a white, flowy shirt than had a material so thin and fine that my fingers couldn't stop running over it. 'No stripes,' I murmured. I turned upon hearing the sound of you shuffling behind, and could only admire the view.

It only occurred to me when I saw you standing there, pale, toned torso on show, that I had never seen you so bare. We would always be rushing and fumbling and kissing and pulling. There was never any _time._ But I saw you then - I saw you as _human._ After so long of seeing you donned in those dirty stripes, to see you with scars and cigarette burns was something like a wake up call to me.

You were Jerome. You were real. You existed outside of Arkham.

You were working on the ties of your pants when I made my way over to you, already throwing my striped dress onto the floor in a flurry. You looked up at me, dark eyes jumping from my face to my chest, my stomach, and then my legs. I was as pale as you. I was as damaged as you. The scratches on my arms went further, dotting over my stomach and upper thighs. You'd seen those, though. You saw why my nails were so short all of the time.

I kissed you like I had never kissed you before. It felt wrong, for a moment, as if we should be biting and fighting at each other. In all honesty, I had wanted to savour the feeling of your bare stomach against mine, skin hard with muscle and warm from your own heat. I kissed you slowly, hands reaching around burying into the back of your head, fingers twining into your red hair. You responded, oddly cold hands settling on my bare hips, rubbing and kneading at the extra fat there now.

I loved you. I knew it then and I know it now. The idea of voicing it was, of course, completely fucking ridiculous. You would have either laughed at me or thrown me out of the window.

Oh, the _window._

That's when I remembered it and remembered how high up we were then. We overlooked the _whole_ of Gotham, and the idea had excited me more than anything else had in three long years. I pulled away from you, catching your pink cheeks and dilated pupils. 'I want to open the window,' I told you, fingers coming round to play along the hair of your stomach. 'I haven't seen Gotham in a long time'.

You smirked. 'You ain't missing much, beautiful'.

I ignored you, instead pulling away from your warm form and going over to the floor length, double windows. It didn't take a lot of effort to yank the handles round and pull them open. The air, as always in Gotham, was crisp and cold. The sky, overcast and grey. The noise of cars and police sirens filled the air of the city below the both of us. I felt you come up behind me as I stood there, bare and cold and basking in the freezing wind.

I was _free._

* * *

 **Now it can get interesting ;) Review, review, review! I'm posting this before a four hour lecture, so I hope to come back to some kind words :)**


	7. Mine

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Seven:_

Mine

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

I'm not sure whether those two days of freedom were given to us on purpose by Theo, or he had spent those two days thinking up a way to introduce us to the public. Either way, I lavished in those days of freedom. I ate. I breathed in the fresh (polluted, musty) air of Gotham, I showered until my skin was red raw and I googled every name of every person I had ever known.

None of the girls who bullied me ever amounted to much. Good.

You thrived in Theo's presence, more so than I had ever seen you do with another person. You personality shifted somehow; your smiles were wider and your eyes just a little darker. You were somewhere where you were appreciated and needed and known for your expertise: doing the unexpected. You laughed and fought back against the others in a way that you had not done in Arkham, because you knew that out there, in the real world, _you_ were the one _they_ should be scared of.

I'm getting ahead of myself. We need to backtrack to the hours after we arrived.

It was on the first day, the day we gathered in the dining room and spoke of what we were, what we would become, that everyone dispersed and Theo called for me (me?) to stay behind with him. You looked at me and smirked, the corners of your mouth rising in a knowing manner. Apparently, it did not surprise you that Theo thought me important enough to talk to me alone. I suppose this made sense, in a way. You, Jerome Valeska, would not fuck around with someone who was not _worthy,_ right?

Greenwood, on the other hand, had sneered out of the room, very nearly pushing Tabitha out of the way. As I settled back into the chair at the long, grand table opposite Theo, I watched as Barbara and Tabitha round the corner together. It didn't take an idiot to realize what Barbara's intentions were _there._

'Madeline,' said Theo Galavan, a smile settling onto his face. He clasped his hands in front of him and set his dark eyes on my face. He was an odd man, wasn't he? Almost robotic in his nature. 'I suppose you're wondering why I've kept you here'.

I blinked at him. 'Obviously'.

Theo had laughed, much to my relief. Sometimes words just fell out of my mouth when I _really_ didn't want them to, you know? I still didn't know what kind of man Theo was, and until I did I really didn't want to get myself killed because of my sharp tongue. 'Yes, yes. Now, you may have noticed that Barbara has stayed rather close to my sister, Tabitha?' This time, he didn't give me time to answer. 'This is because I am _saving_ her for later. I believe, without a doubt, that the _women_ of this... _group,_ shall we say, are the _real_ performers'.

Then why the hell had he, earlier, said that I was to be grouped with the men? Not that I minded. I really didn't want to have to spend lots of time with Barbara and Tabitha.

I continued to blink at him. 'Have you ever heard the saying _behind every man, there is an even greater woman?'_ And then it made sense. I never told you that he said any of this to me, did I? 'Jerome is brilliant; the most brilliant out of all of you, I hope you won't mind me saying. But then, there is you. You think, don't you? Jerome hacked his mother to death with an axe, but you finished yours off with a kitchen utensil to the throat'.

I shrugged. 'Less mess'.

'And _that's_ why you're smart'. Theo stared at me, mouth a straight line. 'Do you understand what I am saying?'

I thought of you. I thought of your intelligence, but also your maniac tendencies. I thought of your watchful eyes, but also your big, smiling mouth. I thought of your quick hands, but also the mess they could make. I didn't like mess, and what Theo was asking me was quite clear. 'You want me to make sure he doesn't make a mess,' I replied 'You want me to be the _smart_ one'.

Theo smiled easily. 'You read my mind, Madeline'.

* * *

 _It was almost like he didn't quite trust you._ This was all I could think about as I made my slow way back to your (our? our) room, head spinning and mind stuttering out the conversation that had just occurred. Perhaps the man was just careful in his work. Perhaps he wanted to give me a purpose. Perhaps he saw what we were, and stupidly assumed that you would listen to my advice. Perhaps he assumed I had any other advice to give other than _go Jerome, kill._

People always did take my quietness as just an ounce of sanity.

It wasn't hard to see the Theo liked things to be perfect. It was told in his home, his persona, the very way he spoke. He wanted us to cause mayhem in Gotham, but he wanted it to be _perfect._ Butwhat gain did he have from it? To become some kind of _King_ of Gotham? Most likely. And we were his servants - his _jesters._

You were staring out of the wide open window when I entered the room, dressed in a white, button up shirt and black slacks. Theo had already told us that come our first appearance in two days, we would be changing right back into those black and white stripes. ' _For effect,'_ he had insisted. You were all about that too. When Theo had said that, I had seen your mouth twitch into that little smirk.

You didn't turn when I walked in, nor when I locked the door tightly behind me. 'I think he just wanted to know me more,' I told you, the lie falling off of my tongue easily. 'So he can know how to use me'. It wasn't a whole lie, was it? That was kind of what Theo had been doing when he spoke to me - finding out who and what I was.

You scoffed and laughed and unwound your shoulders, twisting away the kinks. 'Y'know, _Mads,_ I think I might have thought of a way to, uh, _open the show,_ if you know what I mean'. You looked over you shoulder at me, waggling your brows. At my blank expression, you tutted and waved a hand. 'Never _mind -_ I'll tell Galavan later'. You whirled around and stepped toward me, hands coming up to cradle my face. 'I gotta tell you - it's gonna be a _blast!'_

You peered at me harder. 'Well, ain't you bein' a moody Mads today. _Smile_ for me Mads!' I did, wide and toothy and entirely fake. You saw this, of course, but still applauded me for my efforts. 'I've seen better from you, Mads, I _won't lie_. Now, you want me to put a _real_ smile on that face?' You grinned, a little laugh coming from deep in you throat. 'Well, not _smile'._ You pressed your cheek against mine, mouth close to my ear. 'Maybe... _moan'._

No. I'd felt too... _subordinate_ that day already. I grinned a little bigger then, pulling my face away from yours quickly and piping up, 'Me _first,_ Jerome'. Me first, indeed. I raised my hands, running them quickly over you shirt to brush away the imaginary dust. I felt like having _fun,_ Jerome.

You clenched your teeth and _smiled,_ looking down at me as I undid every button on your white shirt with precision. 'You know, I think Theo's really going to make Gotham _kneel,_ don't you think?' I peered up at you, stopping midway down your shirt. 'He's _good,_ isn't he? Smart, charismatic, good looking - everything he needs to bring _anyone_ their _knees'._

Your smile was, unsurprisingly, gone. _Payback, bitch._

I smiled, looking down to finish up the job of your shirt. With one finger, I trailed an invisible line down your pale chest, trailing along light hairs and defined muscle. 'A real _man'._

 _That. The punchline._

Your mood changed quickly in a way that portrayed to me, _finally,_ the man that you _could_ be with me. You hit away my hand and grabbed at my chin (not gently, like you had done before, but with quick and hard fingers), forcing me to look into your dark and mad eyes. You spied me out, mouth bared into a grin that could almost be mistaken as a growl. 'You're _mine,_ beautiful - remember _that_?' I continued to smile. You dropped my chin and grabbed at my hips and pulled me closer to you, hair falling out of its form. 'Remember how I _tasted you_ and _made_ you _?'_

I laughed a little. 'I was always _this,_ Jerome'. I kissed your nose. 'I just had no _reason_ to be _anything_ until you came along. But don't, not for a second, think that you _made me'._ I smiled at you. ' _I_ made me'.

I kissed you and I bit you, making sure you knew exactly who was in charge at that moment. You allowed me to do so, and that was why I loved you. You bit back and kissed my neck, holding me closer and closer and muttering dark things under your breath. I wondered what you thought of when we touched like we were then. I wondered if you had ever fucked another before me. I never asked you, but a big part of me knew you hadn't. The Jerome that you pretended to be before you killed your mother wouldn't have slept with pretty girls.

I pushed your shirt away from your shoulders, appreciating how easy it was for you to hold me in place. You tasted metallic and sweet at the same time, and you smelt like gunpowder and cigarette smoke. 'You're mine too,' I reminded you, pulling away and looking hard at your face. A sliver of blue in your suddenly black eyes. A tinge of red along your cheekbones. Lips that were red and puffy from my biting. 'I rule you, just as much as you rule me'.

You grinned, a little laugh escaping you as you twisted me around, ignoring my annoyed yelp. You lowered your head just enough so that it was level with my ear and pushed me back into you, my back to your chest. ' _Such strong words,'_ you purred into my ear, teeth grazing the skin. 'I _knew_ I'd like you, the _moment_ I saw you'. You reached around my hip and tugged at the button on my trousers. 'I don't always _like_ people, Mads. Y'know, when they're not fucking, drinking, spending or conforming - I guess they _can be_ _alright_. So you. Should. Feel. _Special'._

I countered you. 'I _bit_ the last guy who touched me. I bit him so hard that he needed _stitches'._ I worked at my jaw, heat pooling as your hand reached into my jeans and fingers-fingers- ' _You_ should feel special'. My voice was breathy, and you knew you had done your job. You slipped your fingers to that bundle of nerves and played there, waiting for me to meet you where you wanted me. After a minute, I was wet. After a minute, I was flushed and leaning back into you. After a minute, you pushed me forward and lead me to the window.

' _Jerome,'_ I very near whined. We hadn't fucked yet, you know? For once, I was growing impatient. The cold air hit me and cooled down my moist, hot skin as Gotham - all of Gotham - lay below us on its knees.

You continued to work at me, muttering words into my ear and resting you chin at my shoulders. I was panting near the end of it, even more turned on by the feel of your hardness pressing against my lower back. Your hand moved faster and faster, working and working until I was leaning my head back into you, moaning and groaning as you licked at my neck and- and-

You stopped.

'Not _yeeet,'_ you sang. I could have killed you, do you know that? I could have literally thrown you out of that window and not even thought about it again. 'You're gonna come when I _want_ you to come, beautiful. Where I can _see_ you'. You. You. _You._ I huffed and turned to you, pressing a hand flat against your chest and pushing. 'I _like_ it when you're _rough,'_ you said gruffly, still _smiling_ away. Why did you always smile? Why couldn't I just _undo_ you like you had me, so many times?

I pushed and pushed until you back onto the bed, legs hanging over the side. You were still hard, and the image of you like that did nothing for my self control. The heat in my lower abdomen _burned_ with want; for something to fill it, but I knew I had to play you. You'd get bored otherwise, wouldn't you? I had liked it more, anyway. The wait. The cruelty we shared in teasing, biting and fucking with each other. I never really _enjoyed_ fucking someone until I met you.

I pulled off my trousers in front of you, but you probably remember how I'd nearly tripped out of them. Perhaps you'd assumed I would come for you straight away and crawl on top of you and that would be that. No, no, Jerome - did you not realise that if you treated me shitty, I'd treat you shitty right back? And Impulse...oh, Impulse was telling me to make you fuckin' _beg._

Once my shirt was discarded onto the floor, my bra followed soon after. Had I ever been so bare in front of you? Unlikely. I couldn't remember. Most of our sessions in Arkham were blurs of hoping to not get caught and making sure I didn't accidentally turn on the dryer with my foot. You watched me like a snake, ready to pounce and I had smirked at you like the predator who had feigned being the prey. Very slowly, mouth opening only a little, I slipped my hand beneath my underwear and continued where you had left off.

All I had to do was look at your face (pink cheeks, red lips, messy hair and dark eyes) and I was very nearly where you had left me. You leaned forward, watching me like I was a precious bird, like if you looked away for once second I might just fly off. You touched the side of your face, nearly pinching the skin at your cheek in frustration. And I had loved it. Who else could I do this with but you?

You'd had enough, apparently, because when a small moan left my mouth you had leaned forward, grabbed my wrist and yanked me to you with such force that I fell onto the bed on top of you. 'Point fuckin' made,' you growled, yanking my hips and pressing them hard against yours. You were on your back, and I had every intention of keeping you there as I pressed my palms flat against your chest.

'Good,' I had laughed, eyes wide and teeth shining.

I made quick quick work at your belt buckle, whereas you simply yanked and yanked at the thinnest part of my underwear until it was shredded away. That would, most likely, bruise.

We were a mess of yanking and pulling and growling at each other when we hurt the other. Who cared? _Who cared?_ You touched every inch of me and I rose above you, only lowering myself when you were ready and bare before me. You held me in place and finally - finally - you filled me up. I gasped and groaned and moved against you, only slowing down when I felt fit to, when I knew you were _very_ into it.

'Beautiful,' you had murmured, dark eyes gazing up at me. 'I might have to kill ya if you don't speed it up'.

I smirked, leaning down to kiss you full on the mouth and meeting the movements of your hips with my own. It was odd, to get back into something so intimate after so long. My hips had been jerky at first, as if I didn't quite know how to move them. I felt like a virgin. Ha! What an innocent term for someone like me, huh?

' _Mads,'_ you groaned, swearing and cursing and digging your fingers hard into my behind.

I'm not sure how it happened, but the next moment you had twisted the both of us around, and it was me with their back pressed into the soft comforter. Everything after that was a mixture of my own swearing, sweating and gasping because - Lord - that position had been one hundred percent better. With your moist forehead pressed against my chest and your hips ramming into my own (my joints would hurt later, that's for sure) you told me I was your Madeline.

Not in the possessive sense that we threw around so often, anyway. I think it was the closest form of affection I will ever get from you.

You pulled me up and I went with you, adjusting myself onto your lap as your moved up into me and I moved down onto you. I kissed and kissed and kissed you, licking away the salty taste of your sweat and biting hard at your shoulder when I knew I was being too loud. It was with the bite at your shoulder that you came, hips jerking and eyes screwed shut. You pressed my hips down hard into you, hissing through your clenched teeth and muscles flexing in your arms. The only sound in the room, for just a moment, was the heaving of both our breaths.

Then you moved again. And again. You moved despite your end, hand reaching around and playing at me, the other burying into my dark, frizzy hair and bringing my head forward so you could kiss and suck at my neck. I was oddly flattered. You cared enough to make me come. And I had - I hadn't been faking for you, y'know. I would have applauded you for your efforts, but I had been too tired. Breaking out of Asylum and vigorous sex? It does a person in, Jerome.

You dropped me next you and, upon meeting my gaze, smiled like the world had finally fallen to your feet, dead.

'Turns out we're just good at _everything,_ aren't we, beautiful?'

* * *

 **That one was hard to get out for some reason, dunno why. Anyway, I'd like to point out that I'm not trying to make Mads/Jerome's relaionship something to aspire to. It's a pretty fucked up one, for the both of them. Far too many death threats for it to be normal. This was all set during the first of Theo 'saving' them from Arkham, as there is 48 hours between that and the 'bodies dropping off of the building' scene. Excited to write that though!**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews! Over 50, yay! I hope to get the next chapter up a bit quicker. Adios!**


	8. Care

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Eight:_

Work

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

After being out of that damned dress for those two days, the feel of the scratchy material back against my skin was enough to drive me mad. And the stripes - God, the _stripes._ Were we in a 1950's novella? Christ.

You paid no attention to such things, of course. You were in your element, and I was very near entranced to see it. Every ounce of you exuded excitement and terror as you ordered us about, allowing me to first spray paint letters onto the wailing men's white straight jackets before pushing them toward Helzinger. He was the strongest so, therefore, the best one to push the men off of the building.

I quickly sprayed the 'A' onto the whining man, almost glad that he was not able to look at me. I know that there's something wrong with me, because I know I should have felt guilty when we sent those men to their deaths. I didn't, though. None of us did. I always recognized that we were crazy, Jerome. You just never admitted it, and I think you honestly believed that you were the sanest of the bunch.

I got up from my crouch and let Greenwood push the man toward Helzinger, who took the man by his shoulders and gave a great, big _push._ You sat on the wall at the edge of the building we pushed them off, long legs dangling and mouth twinkling with a smile. I started on 'Mr X', fingers a little red from the spray paint, but head whizzing with excitement all the same. Impulse told me this was good; this was _fun._ Impulse told me to stand on the edge of that building and spread my arms like I could fly.

I watched as Dobkins ran to look over the edge, a giddy little smile on his face. You stared down, the back of your head to me, and said, 'Per _fect'._ And it was. The idea was so _perfect_ for what we would stand for, I was entirely impressed at your mad mind for thinking up something so diabolical. Had I been surprised, though? Of course. You were capable of anything.

'Next!' You called, turning to look over your shoulder at me. You eyed my work and grinned. 'Mr _X_ please, beautiful'. I took the man by his shoulders and shoved, ordering him to walk and following him to the edge. There was a moments pause in which I waited for Helzinger to push him, but you kept your eyes on me, dark and smirking. ' _Push,'_ you said, voice like velvet.

I did. You remember that, of course. You watched me align him _just right_ , and I had grinned cockily when you nodded in approval. Impulse said yes, otherwise I would have said no. I'd only ever killed one person, you know. He was my second - my one of many.

That's later, though.

'Perfect,' you purred once again.

'What shall we do with the, uh, _spare?'_ Dobkin's inquired, arms held close to him as he pointed at the blinded hostage that stood behind us, held in place by Greenwood. I considered him, then looked to you, watching as you bowed your head and stared hard at the art we had already created on the side walk below. I thought quickly, imagining how much _better_ it would look with-

'Oh, I know!' you piped up, swinging your legs over the side and grabbing my arm as you passed me. You dragged me in front of the man and murmured, 'You know, _beautiful,'_ and smiled and smiled like the maddest and most beautiful thing in the world was about to happen. I took the spray can once again and ducked, painting a big ol' exclamation point across the struggling man's torso.

You grinned and took the spray can off of me, tossing it to the side. 'Aaron, would you kindly?' Helzinger started forward, taking the man and gathering him in his beefy arms. Watching him do that to a man...it made me worry even more about how weak I was compared to the rest of them. I mean, they weren't the most trusted companions, were they? He could flick me and probably break me.

The moment the the man's (Exclamation Man, that is) scream faded to the ground and stopped with a sickening end, we all leant over the edge in eagerness, taking in what we had created and hoping that Theo would be happy. Our name, bloody and horrific, shined back at us, imprinted on the dead bodies of our first victims as a group. With my skirts billowing in the wind and my hand tugging at the hem of your shirt, I grinned.

 _'Maniax,'_ Helzinger drawled slowly, spelling each letter to pronounce the word.

You gave a short laugh. 'Now _that's_ a headline,' you cracked, letting out your usual crazed laugh. I peeked further over the edge, holding my hair back from my face to get a view of the people gathering below, all of their eyes scanning the buildings above to find where the bodies had come from. Your laughter was cut short by my tugging on your shirt.

'We gotta go,' I reminded you and the others, already backing away from the edge. You laughed and hopped ahead of me, long legs carrying you quickly to the rooftop door and swinging it open quickly. The others followed, crouched and moving quickly against the light, chilly wind. I hung back for a moment, eyes jumping up a taller building next to the one we inhabited and it was there that I saw her, black figure contrasting with the light sky behind her.

Tabitha. I never told you that I saw her, knowing that you might be offended or angered that Theo did not trust you enough to lead the 'mission' without her watching our every move. To an extent, I understood and still do.

With one last look at her, I followed you all quickly to our ride _home._

* * *

Theo sent me to Tabitha and Barbara, insisting that I spend time with women having been so long in the company of men. 'I am a gentlemen,' he told me. 'And I know that where you have been, you have not been treated as a lady'. He accompanied this with a kind smile, to which I had been almost grateful for. He was right, you know. Men are forceful and crazy, women are smart and _mad._ I kind of missed that.

I hadn't really expected to see the two pushing a man between them, whips out and maniacal smiles on their faces. The man had a metl box on his head, and that was enough for me to grow even more confused. They looked up when I entered, smiles sliding from their faces and curiosity replacing them. Barbara eyed me, though not unkindly.

'Look after her, won't you? I fear that her abilities are something that need working on after so long locked away'. He looked down at me, smiling softly and then, with one last look at his sister, he left me to the wolves. I knew where _you_ were. You were having some kind of brunch with the others, talking over our mission. I could bet my money that was where Theo was heading. Why hadn't he wanted me there, I wonder? Was it to see you without me? Was it to push me away from you; my voice when others were there?

Tabitha's smile slowly coiled back onto her face. 'How fun,' she remarked, holding the whip higher. The man on the floor shuffled backwards, whining from beneath the confines of the box.

I tilted my head at him. 'Who is that?'

Barbara looked down at the man and kicked him. 'This?' she pushed her shoe hard into his back. 'This is Mayor James. Say _hello_ Mayor'. He groaned and flattened his pudgy body against the wooden floor. 'Impolite,' Barbara reminded him, raising her arm and bringing the whip down hard. Why whips? Who even _used_ whips?

Barbara looked closer at me, pretty face tilted to the left. 'You know, you shouldn't let a man like Jerome do all the talking for you. You've got a brain in that head of yours'.

The comment annoyed me to no end. I narrowed my eyes at her. 'And I'm using it. I talk when I need to, and lately I've been stuck for conversation due to current company'. I blinked at her and smiled sweetly, and I know you would have cackled. My eyes flashed briefly to Tabitha. 'A day in and you've already found a new friend? Helzinger will be distraught, I'm sure'.

Tabitha bristled, whereas Barbara simply bit her tongue and smiled at me, walking slowly forward. 'You _have_ got a voice, Madeline. A bitchy little one, apparently'.

I frowned at her. 'Was there a point to your brother bringing me here?' The question was directed at Tabitha, who still seemed to be staring at me like I was some kind of maths puzzle.

She shrugged and slung the whip over her neck, both hands holding each end. 'Probably so we could talk. My bother is so much more about words than actions'. To me, that didn't seem the case, but I let her talk anyway. 'What you need to do is _prepare_ yourself'. She looked me up and down. 'Both mentally _and_ physically. You dress like a fourteen year old'.

Barbara scoffed and turned to me, a sly smile on her face. 'You know, I like you. I like that you get on with it, no questions asked. I like this whole brooding, silent thing that you got going on. What I don't like is how... _passive_ you are. Didn't you kill your mom? Where's that _fire_ gone, little girl? What does Jerome see that we don't?'

Tabitha scoffed. 'What's between her legs, probably'.

Barbara continued to stare at me, smile spread still over her face. 'Would you like a go?' she indicated to the whip in her hand and I quickly caught onto her meaning. _Yes,_ I thought. _Impulse says yes. Impulse says fuck it._ Was it an attack without meaning? Had this man done anything to me? Did I want to prove myself in some sick little way? Was I simply bored?

Who cared?

There was something so _good_ about hitting him with all of the force I had. I was in control, Jerome, and I wish you could have seen me in that moment. I _smiled_ whilst I did, a big 'ol smile that was plastered across my face as I hit and hit and hit. He cried, the Mayor. He trembled and yelled and part of me was so very glad that I could not see his face. Do you think that makes me weak or a coward? I don't know. All I know is how good it felt to make someone hurt - _to let go._

I understood Barbara a little more then. I understood the well respected woman who fell from grace and into the darkness. I got it.

I wanted to show you.

'Can he stand up?' I asked, turning my head toward the two other women. Tabitha shrugged, dark shoulders rising and lowering smoothly. I turned to the whimpering man and hummed to him, toe prodding at his sweaty back. 'Stand up,' I ordered. 'Now'. With both mine and Tabitha's whips at his legs, he did, crying and sobbing behind the thickness of his cage. Tabitha pushed at him, whip meeting his back with a resounding _crack_ every five seconds.

Barbara stopped me before I could leave the room. 'C'mere,' she murmured, turning me around and hands going to my jacket. She slid it off of my shoulders and threw it to the floor, then tucked my shirt into my dark jeans. 'Don't hide yourself,' she insisted, voice softer than I had ever heard it before. The almost maternal instinct that she showed me startled me enough that I did not even push her away from me. She jutted her chin upward. 'Go'.

I did. I followed Tabitha all the way to the room where you and the others sat. You, in your luxurious red dressing gown, tied tightly around your body. The others looked up when when we entered, but you simply carried on pouring your tea like you could not hear the sound of whipping and torture behind you. At the dinner table, of all places.

It was when I came into your vision, whip raised and smile on my face that you stalled, blue eyes meeting mine and tongue darting out to lick your lips. Is that when you saw what I could really be? Is that when I became her?

Barbara slid past and in front of the cackling Tabitha, taking the whip from my hand and saying, 'my turn'. She hit him hard, doing a little spin at the end and turning to Tabitha, a filthy smile on her face. For a moment, I was actually surprised that I had been right about the two of them. The way in which they looked at each other, though, did mirror the way in which Jerome looked at me when I did something particularly _bad._

I looked away from them and looked to you, a breathless grin on my face. You could only smile into your tea back at me.

'I am _so_ glad that you three are getting along,' Theo said, more to the older two women than myself. 'But we're a little busy here, so if you could leave the poor Mayor alone?'

I slid past him and instead toward the food. Already, in your hand, you held a pink doughnut for me to grab. 'I could only amuse them for so long,' I countered Theo, taking the doughnut from you. 'And I agree with them. I don't understand why I was dumped upstairs when _I'm_ part of the Maniax'. I bit into the doughnut and shrugged at Theo's displeased look.

'Yeah,' agreed Barbara. 'Why do the boys get all the fun?'

Theo ignored my statement. 'Your time is coming,' he said to Barbara. I looked down at you, catching the way in which you gazed up at me with plans behind your eyes. I was vaguely aware of Theo questioning whether we had, in fact, killed the Mayor but with a simple whip to the stomach, we found that he was alive.

You considered me with a calm look, back straight and fingers playing around your teacup. 'Having _fun?'_

I simply grinned back at you.

* * *

I ducked onto my knees, hands plucking out odd assortments of knives and other little, lethal weapons. Theo had said to have fun with what we found, and fun to me was finding the smallest, most dangerous little knife that I could slip into the back of my shoe. I wasn't about the swords and the axes like you were - no, I liked something subtle and quiet that could slit a throat and end a life simply.

I was only partly aware of you in front of me. It was only when I heard the sound of metal against metal and a dangerous growl in your voice when you said, 'Give that back,' that I looked up, knowing it was never good when your voice took that tone. I was right. Greenwood had a samurai sword in his hands, whereas you held the sheath. You looked at him, eyes unblinking and mouth stuck in a frozen, angry smile.

'I saw it first,' Greenwood said, holding the sword at a stance.

'No,' you countered. 'You didn't'. You held out your hand for the sword, back stiff. 'I _said_ give it back'.

And then Greenwood did something that had be shooting to my feet, the first knife I could grab in my right hand. He held the sword out to you slowly, letting it drag along your pale neck, and said, ' _Make_ me, you little brat!' I stared at him, hoping for nothing more than him to look at me and see the look in my eyes. Maybe then he would know I would slice him up into tiny little pieces if he proceeded with his actions.

Dobkin's _ooooo'd_ behind me, and I turned to quickly glare at him. You backed up, hand lowering and a little smile on your face, until you were standing just in front of me. I saw immediately what you were going to grab at, and I couldn't quite help the smile that settled onto my face. You were okay. You always were, weren't you?

'Your samurai skills are excellent, Greenwood-San, but they are nothing compared to mine!' you said, donning a ridiculous accent. I sighed as you grabbed at the chainsaw, sliding the knife into the space between my belt and jeans. 'Prepare to die!'

'Can to you stop your little testosterone filled feud, please?' I watched as your chainsaw and his sword clanged together, sparks flying. 'No? Okay'. I crossed my arms and settled with watching the two of you, knowing full well that I could jump in and slice Greenwood's throat if need be.

'Enough!'

' _Finally,'_ I sighed, watching as Theo entered the room with long strides. 'Boys, we're a team. We don't fight amongst ourselves'. The two of you stopped, sullen looks on both your faces. I could have laughed at the way he settled a hand on both of your shoulders like a disappointed school teacher. I didn't like it, though. It made no sense to be that you work for someone else - it just didn't fit. Who was he to tell us _how_ to create anarchy?

'Yeah, we're a _team, boys'._ I looked over my shoulder at Dobkin's, unnerved by his child-like attitude. The helmet on his head fell over his eyes, and I couldn't help thinking how much like a child doing dress up he looked. How had this man raped women? How could he sit there and play and pretend?

Greenwood slung the sword over his shoulder. 'And _I'm_ the captain'.

I could have laughed - couldn't you? I don't say this because of what you were to me, I say this because it is the truth: you were the smart one. You could lead an army of nuns into hell, Jerome. The idea of Greenwood being captain or boss or anything of the sort was both laughable and ludicrous. He was nothing but a speck of annoying dust on our radar.

You glowered and dropped the chainsaw. 'Captain of my foot'. I rolled my eyes, arms crossed and mouth pressed into a thin line. My eyes stayed soley on the back of your head, wondering where you would go with this.

'I've murdered a dozen women,' started Greenwood, teeth bared like a dog. 'Terrorized the city. What have you done - chop up your mommy?' You shifted on your feet, and I could see the anger building up inside of you. His words, although true, would only send you into a fit of trying to prove yourself. Still, even I narrowed my eyes at Greenwood's words.

'Everybody has to start somewhere,' you breathed.

'There was nothing smart or memorable about your murders, Greenwood. They were just _messy,'_ I hissed, baring my teeth at him.

You nodded, shoulders rising in tenseness and head twitching back and forth. 'See, I have ambition. I have ambition and brains and _her -_ you're just a nutty old cannibal. I mean, how many people can you eat before that shtick gets _old_?' You raised your arms, your body showing just how wound up you were. And yet, although I never mentioned it, my stomach dropped at your words. _You had me._

Greenwood sneered out a smile. 'I could eat one more'.

Theo, still holding onto you both, finally spoke. 'I can see we're going to have to resolve this one once and for all'. You lowered your arms and linked them behind your back, regaining your build once again. I watched Galavan, eyes jumping to the small handgun that he brought out of his jacket pocket. I clenched my jaw in surprise. _Don't._ You wouldn't forgive me for being weak.

The moment Theo pulled out a single bullet, I knew where the situation was heading. 'I trust you know this game?' he asked.

You scoffed. 'Oh, _love it'._

'Who wants to be the boss?' he asked, handing over the gun.

You smiled and cocked your head. 'Ladies first'.

Greenwood took the gun with a crazed, confident smile. Sword still thrown over his shoulder, he took the gun and held it up to his curly head and, with bated breath, we all watched as he pulled the trigger. _Fuck._ I hated the smile that spread across his ugly face, but in that moment I hated you more than anyone. You didn't even look at me. You didn't even try to give me one last look before you took the gun from him and held it to your head.

'Hey, _Greenwood_ '. You cocked the gun and leaned forward, mouth opening into a smile. 'What's the secret to good comedy?' _If you die I'll kill them all. If you die I'll crack in two._ The gun clicked. No bullet. I breathed out, surprised and worried at how relieved I was. When had you come to actually mean something to me? When did I start to care so much about you? ' _Timing'._

But then you kept fucking going, didn't you? You cocked the gun yet again and I took a step forward, my stomach turning and my head clouding with fury. You held the gun to your cheek this time. 'And what's courage?' The gun clicked. _Empty. Stop now, Jerome. Fucking stop._ 'Grace under pressure'. My head hurt. I didn't like caring this much. I felt like my mind was going to explode. _Stop caring. Stop caring. Grab the gun out of his stupid fucking hands and beat the shit out of his pretty little face with it._

I could hear the madness in your voice and I watched the smile slowly disappear from Greenwood's face. I knew then, with absolute clarity, that I was going to murder you.

You moved slowly then, gun coming up under your chin. I bit my tongue and watched you, heart hammering and mind whirring. 'And...' you looked at him, eyes dark and jaw set. 'Who's _the boss?'_ There was a moment of bated breath in which Greenwood stared, Theo ducked and Dobkin's giggled nervously. I could only stare at the back of your head, wondering how the hell you had woven yourself so deeply into my mind to make me care _this much._

 _The gun clicked._ I closed my eyes, hands unclenching and mind clearing somewhat. Theo laughed a little, eyes trained on you like you were greatest thing he had ever discovered and I saw your cheeks rise in a horrible little smile. ' _I'm the boss,'_ you told Greenwood. You laughed, low and hollow and backed up a little when Theo took the handgun off of you. You stared at Greenwood, showing him why you were not to be fucked with and why _you_ were the boss.

'I believe you are, Jerome,' said Galavan. 'I believe you are'.

You turned suddenly away from Greenwood and plucked the sword from him, bowing at Theo and saying, _'Arigato, sensei!'_ You spun on your heel, sword raised as you cut it through the air, a smile spread across your face in victory. Theo watched you only for a moment before turning away, eyes flickering briefly to Greenwood. The crazed man looked only at you, before growling and storming past everyone, fists clenched.

'And that, as they say, is that,' Theo said, rubbing his hands together. 'I see you've found a liking for knives, Madeline. Very fitting'. I smiled tersely at him, eyes only fixed on you as you played and cut at the other end of the room. 'I'll leave you then,' he said, taking long strides out of the room. I waited until you met my gaze, and I hated you for how you looked at me.

You looked pleased with yourself.

I turned and stormed out of the room, biting my tongue so hard I was sure it would bleed. I was furious at myself for caring if another human being lived or died - when did I care about such things? When did that matter to me at all? I was Madeline and I was empty and I had been for years. Then you came and ruined me and you expected to just leave without saying goodbye? _Weak girl. Why care?_

I knew you would come for me. You looked at me best when I was angry, so I knew you could not miss such an opportunity when my anger was aimed at _you._ So I waited in front of the door, fingers playing with the knife in my right hand and eyes unblinking as I stared at the grand wooden door. You would come. You'd make me wait, but you would come. How could you miss my fury?

When you did walk through the door, hand brushing through your hair arrogantly, you scarcely jumped when the knife whizzed past your face and embedded itself into the door frame next to you. You looked at it, then at me, and you sighed like I was a petulant child. Quickly, you closed the door and swaggered forward, still donned in the red robes.

'Well,' you said, in front of me now. 'That was a _silly move, Mads._ Now you don't have a knife'. You suddenly grabbed my shoulders and slammed me into the wall behind, face drawing close as you grinned wide. 'Throwing knives at people is considered _rude_ in _some places, dear'._ You touched your nose against mine. ' _Why so serious, Mads?'_

I glowered at you, arms straight at my side. 'You could have _died'._ I shook my head and spit my words out at you. ' _That's_ not how you die, Jerome'.

You bit your tongue and grinned. 'Mads, you _care!'_

I grabbed your waist and stuck my nails into your side. Since leaving the Asylum, they had finally been allowed to grow. 'You _tell_ me if you do shit like that. You _look_ at me. You don't do it to _show off-'_

You pushed me again. 'Sounds a lot like you're tellin' me what to do, beautiful'. You tutted. 'None. Of. _That'._

I kissed you. I pressed my mouth against yours and kissed you with everything I had, leaning into your form and feeling your hands loosen their hold on me. I pressed myself on my tiptoes, tasting every part of your mouth and pushing you backwards. Pulling away, I grinned wickedly. ' _I'm_ the only one that can make you like this. _We're together in this and if you're going to and get yourself killed, you're going to fucking tell me first'._

You didn't disagree.

* * *

 **Long wait, sorry! On my reading week now, so more updates to come! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and follows, means a lot!**


	9. Sleep

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Nine:_

Sleep

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

You wasted no time in drawing my legs up to your waist and pressing me further against the wall. I sighed into you mouth, relieved somehow to be touching you again. It was a reminder than you were safely mine in that moment; that there was no danger of you disappearing away from me or getting into some fight with Greenwood. For that moment, I had you in my grasp.

I loved that power. It was like holding a flame, you know? Like grabbing into some wild thing that shouldn't really be held at all.

You grabbed my hair and my head pulled back, kissing angrily along my neck and collarbones - always eager, always biting, always scraping your nails along my thighs. I reached between us and undid the straps of your dressing gown and pushed it off of your shoulders. Beneath it, you wore a plaid pyjama top that I already started to unbutton.

You lifted me higher, kissing my hair and my cheeks and digging your fingertips deep into my jeans clad thighs. It surprised me, you know, that you liked to be touched so much in those moments. You pressed yourself closer to me and fought to keep your hands on every inch of me - it was a battle of fighting against you and letting you do what you wanted.

You bit my earlobe, voice low when you spoke to me. 'You're _learning,_ beautiful. Seeing you with the _mayor_ was enough to make me want to fuck you _there'._ You ground against me, hips hard against my own. You would leave bruises, just as you always did. You left me with kisses and fingertips that dug too hard into my pale skin, pressing against bone. I was so little compared to you - I think we both forgot that.

I drew back from your lips. 'Is that the only time you want to fuck me, when I act like Kean or Tabitha - when I act like a _crazy person?'_ I tsk'd at you and grabbed at your hands, trying to slip away from the your tight hold. You growled and pressed closer, fingers digging deeper into my hips. I bared my teeth at you. 'I'm not them. I don't _like_ killing people, you _silly_ boy - I like the...the _power_ I had in that moment, not the _hurt_ I was causing'.

You leaned in deep, eyes like fire when they bore into mine. You would either see me as weak, or you would see me as you had always seen me. Did you have enough sanity in you to even decipher who I even _was_ as a person? Did you understand or comprehend anything that I had just said to you? 'Oh, I _know,_ beautiful. I know you even more than _you_ know _yourself'._ You grinned like a shark and bore down on my, kissing up my arm and along my collarbone. 'You underestimate _me,_ silly _girl_. You want power?' you kissed my neck and then _bit,_ causing me to breathe in quickly. ' _I_ will give you that'.

I brought you close, nails digging into the back of your neck as I drew your face closer to mine. 'No,' I said, hooking my legs around your waist just a _little_ tighter. ' _We_ will _take it'._

You wasted no time after that in unbuttoning my jeans with deft, long fingers. The moment I had pulled your plaid bottoms down past your sharp hipbones, you were inside of me. I sighed against your shoulder, breathing in only to the sound of your low, pleased hum. You were erratic that time, do you remember? You moved against me like we had a time limit - like the world was waiting for us to be done. You slammed into me, and in turn my spine scraped against the wall.

'Faster,' I ordered, more times than I can count. You, always, would comply.

I came first, with you following shortly after with a grinding of teeth and a long tug at my hair. I pushed you back from me and buttoned up my jeans, grinning at your flushed face and wet lips. 'You almost look like a real person,' I laughed, mouth stretching into a smile that could only match yours. You tucked yourself away and grinned that grin - the one that was yours and mine to share with the world. With a smile shared, I planted my hands against your chest and pushed you onto the bed, knees on either side of your hips.

'Next time I see you holding a gun, it better be pointed at Greenwood, not yourself'. I licked my teeth and sucked in, looking down at your smirking face. 'You got that?'

'Aye, _Captain,'_ you purred, still semi-hard beneath me.

I ached, just like I always did after a time spent with you. My groin felt like it had been pushed to its limits, whereas my thighs burned with bruises left my your hands. They were the usual aches and pains, though - now I had the bitten neck and the bruised back. Thanks for that, by the way. I pressed my nails into your chest before rolling off of you, huffing out a sigh.

'Tomorrow - you think it's going to work?' I asked, fingers drumming against my flat stomach. I was told I was so skinny, but all I could feel was the sudden jiggle that came form my thighs and tummy. I wasn't used to the fat being there - it made me feel more solid, _real._ 'Do we know who we're targeting yet, at least?'

You stretched and placed your arms behind your head, your plaid shirt unbuttoned. 'It _aaaalways_ works, beautiful. It's us! We do it _better_ than _anyone,_ you know _that!'_ You kicked out your legs and laughed, all loud and boisterous. 'Who do _you_ want to choose, beautiful - _young_ or _old_? _Beginning_ or _end_?'

I thought for a moment, teeth nipping at my bottom lip in thought. I watched you watch me, your eyes trained on the movement and the smirk ever present on your lit up face. Who would I want to pick? Did I even want to pick at all? 'I don't want to choose the school bus,' I admitted, trying to make my voice sound as strong as possible. I did not want you to think me weak for this decision. 'They still have a chance at realizing'.

You latched onto my words and sat up slightly, teeth showing with your smile. 'Realizing _what?'_

What indeed? 'I don't know. Something. The way we think. _Cogs,_ remember? This is why we're doing this, right? To influence and show them the _best way_ to live and to be, right Jerome? The old made this generation - kill them. Punish them'. Did I mean what I said? Did I _want_ to kill any of them? Was there not other ways to show the world our power and ideologies without pointless killing? I still, even with you, wanted some kind of method to this madness.

You jumped onto your knees, smile plastered across your face and bouncing on the mattress. 'Don't _think_ so much, Mads! You just gotta _do!_ You know what we're gonna _do now?_ We're gonna choose the _young ones..._ y'know why? For the exact reason you _don't wanna choose 'em!'_ No method. Just madness. You were like a lit fuse - there was just no stopping you. ' _Youthful - that'll_ make the headlines, right?'

I blinked up at you.

' _Right?'_

I shrugged. 'Sure'. Sitting up, I came level with your face. 'Whatever you say, Jerome. _You're_ the boss, right?' I immediately knew from the way your eyes narrowed that my tone was not something you appreciated, nor wanted. I grinned brightly and mockingly, knowing full well that one day you might simply decide you'd had enough of my sarcasm and 'disrespect'. I leant forward and bumped my nose with yours, teeth nipping nipping not-so lightly on your lip. 'Right, _boss?'_

'You can be such a _bitch,_ beautiful - you know that?' Your lip was red from where I had bit you, but you didn't seem to care. You pushed your hair back from your face, catching the strand that always seem to fall over your forehead. 'My _mother_ was a bitch too. D'ya remember what happened to _her?'_

I leaned back and laughed, pressing my hands against the mattress to support myself. Still giggling, I looked back at the dark look on your face. 'Oh, _Jerome._ You don't _wanna_ kill me! You _know_ you don't - I amuse you too much! Sure, you _could_ kill me'. I crawled forward and pushed you onto your back, straddling you. With quick hands, I grabbed you by your wrists and placed them around my neck. 'You could _easily_ kill me, _sweetheart -_ but do you _wanna?'_

I grinned down at you, mouth only stretching wider when your thumbs dug just a little bit harder into my jugular. You clenched your teeth and stared up at me, eyes hooded and dark and so, so terrifying. Any normal person would have fled from you, wouldn't they? They would have run far, far away from any of this and got on the first train to freakin' _anywhere._ I couldn't leave you, though. I couldn't leave you alone in this shitfest.

'Guess you got me there, beautiful,' you purred, hands sliding from my neck down to my elbows. 'Tomorrow, you're gonna show everyone who you _really_ are - who _we_ are. Or are you going to, uh, _fade into the black?'_

I frowned own at you. 'I'm not stupid enough to fall for that, Jerome'. You giggled and clenched harder on my arms. 'I'll do what feels right'. _What Impulse tells me to do._

 _As it were, Impulse wanted to watch the world burn._

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, you were there. I was momentarily surprised by this, but only because of the fact that in the few nights we had spent at Theo Galavan's had all involved you either wandering around the place with echoes of your laughter everywhere, or simply leaving too early for me to find you. I mean, I always fell asleep first, didn't I? I slept to the sound of you murmuring plans and ideas and mad little thoughts to me, giggling and scheming away.

That morning, for the first time, I saw you sleeping.

When I crawled into bed, I never touched you. If we fucked, we did not cuddle afterwards. There was an unspoken rule there, wasn't there? An emotional disconnect that was never to be connected...but then I saw you sleep, didn't I? My eyes opened to the sound of a door opening and closing down the hallway. I blinked at the early morning light (too early for anyone sane to be awake) and I was, for a moment, startled to hear the sound of breathing next to me.

I looked and saw _you_. You were lying on your side, facing me, with one bare arm tucked beneath your pillow and the other resting in the space between us. Your hair was a mess. Your eyes were closed. Your mouth was not smiling or smirking or stretched into a grin. I loved you when you were animated and _you,_ but my heart _ached_ at the sight of you in that moment.

That's when I realized I still had the ability to love, and the realization was a lot less world altering that I thought it would be. It was a fact - one of the few that my broken mind could comprehend. I loved you so deeply that my madness even accepted it. It was quite easy to come to terms with. I loved you because I _chose_ to love with, and having something as simple as a choice was not something I'd had in a while.

That's what you wanted from the start, wasn't it? My complete devotion to you. Did you have it - not in the sense I would follow your every move, no. Would you want that? Would you want a puppet?

You breathed deeply in your sleep and although you did not look _innocent,_ you looked calm like the sea. Like, at any given moment, you would remember there was a storm coming and wave up from this tranquillity. I reached a hand forward and touched your strong jawline, right up to your pale ears. 'How could she not realize how great you were going to be?' I wondered, voice sleepy and low.

You opened your eyes slowly, body as still as if you were still sleeping. For once, you said nothing. For once, you let me have the stage.

'If you hadn't don't so already, I would kill her,' I assured you, hand still resting on your jaw. 'I don't know why, but I would. She _hurt_ you'. _Only I can do that. Only I can strike you when you've been a moron. Not her. Not that bitch._ 'Mothers are supposed to _love'. Then why don't they?_

You huffed out a laugh. 'I know you ain't that naive, beautiful'.

 _True_. I smiled wryly. _So true._

* * *

My hair was the most tamed it had been in nearly three years, something of which Barbara had admonished me for admitting. My dress was white and knee length, flaring out with a little 50's twist. The corset was made up of little leather buckles, like that of the jumpsuits the boys were wearing, wherever you were. My lips were red and my eyelashes were finished with a thin coat of black mascara.

I did not like the feminization of my costume, but I could not deny the nice, light feeling I had from wearing something that made me feel _pretty_ for once.

I walked down the street with my handbag held close to me, the gun firm through the feel of the thin, white fabric. I had never actually used a gun before, you know. I'd never even held one before Theo had given it to me, brushing Barbara aside and assuring me that it was an easy little thing to use. You had grinned at me over his shoulder, dark and wide and so very, very ready for what was to come.

It was odd, to walk down the streets of Gotham and not have anyone look at me. It might have been the large sunglasses that covered my face, but I could have almost felt normal in that moment. If I wasn't going to kill a bunch of teenagers, of course.

I saw it then, hurrying up the road with the sound of shouting and cheering peeking through the windows. The yellow school bus zoomed up the road, only halting once I stopped in front of it, white sneakers the only thing that constrated with my costume. I watched driver slam on the break, wide, chubby face staring at me as he breathed in and out quickly, brows furrowed together. The cheering stopped. The engine revved.

I smiled and waved, pulling my sunglasses from my face.

That was when you came. The orange truck came zooming from the hiding spot I had been eyeing, stopping short behind me. I watched the driver look on in confusion as you all jumped out of the truck, white outfits looking so out of place in the world of Gotham. Dobkin's jumped off of the side of the truck, hopping forward with little giggles. Helzinger rounded the back to grab the oil pipe. Then you - you jumped out of the truck once Dobkin's held the door open for you, planting a kiss on my cheek as you spun toward the school bus.

I followed you, skirts swishing and pressed my hands flat against the glass door of the bus. As you knocked on the glass with the end of your gun, I smiled brightly at the driver and waved a finger toward the handle.

The man stared at your gun, mouth open wide and eyes staring at us like we were the most awful things in the universe. The screams started then, I remember. Loud and awful and ringing in my ears now, even today. I don't like the screams of so many to be ringing in my head, Jerome. It makes me ill. It makes me panic.

 _Impulse says yes._

The doors opened and called you out for Helzinger and Greenwood to chain 'em up, grin growing and growing on your lovely face. I snapped open my purse, watching them push themselves onto the bus, and brought out my little handgun. _Do what Theo said. Do what he said and you don't get ridiculed by Greenwood later._ I looked at you and brought the gun forward, already hearing the shouts of protest as Greenwood and Helzinger jangled the chains about.

I stuck my tongue between my teeth and grinned.

You kissed me like your mouth would kill them all.

Following the two men onto the bus, I raised my gun into the air and said, voice clear, 'None of that _screaming_ \- come on, guys. Have some _dignity._ I _really_ don't want to have to shoot someone today, okay? So how's about we just let my two buddies here chain you up to your seats, huh? It would make life a _whole_ lot easier'.

A girl in front of me cried out, tears streaming down her pretty face. I looked at her. 'Why are you _doing_ this?' she cried out.

I laughed at her, waving my hands in the air like a mad woman. 'I couldn't even tell you if I tried!' I giggled, cradling the gun in my right hand, fingers hovering dangerously over the trigger. 'I really couldn't!' I backed away once Greenwood and Helzinger were done, hopping off the last step and grinning wide at you. 'All ready for you, boss'.

You smirked and passed me, gun held high in your hand as you pushed past the two older men. I glowered at Greenwood. 'I'd follow him back in there, if I were you,' I warned. He simply sneered at me before doing what was told of him. It was funny how quickly he heeled to being the mutt, wasn't it? Once he _saw you,_ he knew he couldn't fuck with you.

'I want you all to know - this was a _very_ difficult decision for us'. He stopped in front of a dark haired girl, waving his gin in front of her face with lazy hands. I looked at her, watching as her eyes squeezed shut in pure fear. What was it like to be that scared, I wonder? To fear for your life in such a way? I wonder what she was thinking about in that moment - perhaps her parents or her younger siblings. I wonder what it was like to fear death, Jerome. 'It was a choice between you and a senior citizen bingo party'. He held the gun to her moist forehead.

You continued down the path of the bus, looking from side to side at the trembling teenagers. 'In the end we decided to skew a little younger. _Youthful_ in the day - _sorry'._ You turned on your heel and met my eyes, making your way back toward me with a large grin on your face. Suddenly, the moment you met me, you turned and jumped to face the crying youths once again. Youths. They were the same age us as, but they seemed so much younger, didn't they?

'Gimme an _O!'_ you announced, an expectant smile on your face.

You were met with cries and silence, all of them avoiding looking us dead in the eye. You looked at me and frowned pointedly, to which I shrugged with a little smile. You clenched your jaw an turned back to them, raising your gun and shooting once at the roof above us. They all screamed and sobbed and cried - I blinked at them, feeling so disconnected.

'I said give me an O,' you repeated, voice harsher than before.

 _'O,'_ they rang back to us, voices coming together in unison. I nodded once, hand still holding my gun tightly.

'Gimme an _N!'_

 _'N'._

'Gimme _another O!'_

 _'O'._

I stepped aside at the sight of Helzinger bringing the hose forward, deciding that that it was my time to leave the school bus. I gave the pale, pretty faces of the cheerleaders and jocks once last look before pushing the past the bulking man who handed you the hose.

'What does that spell? _Oh no,'_ you sang along with them, voice more joyful than I had ever heard it. This is what you loved. This is what you lived for.

I stepped onto the wet concrete in my messy shoes, the cold air hitting my bare legs. Behind me, I heard the screams and shouts as your dosed the teenagers in what smelt like petrol. Greenwood met my gaze, a horrible grin spreading across his already psychotic face. I grimaced at him, neither interested not disinterested in what was happening before me. Did I think there were other ways of catching the worlds attention? Yes, Jerome, I did.

I flattened out my dress and brushed a strand of hair from my face, keeping my ears pricked for the sound for sirens. So far, so good. Helzinger and Dobkin's hung near us too, Dobkin's smiling and grinning like this was the greatest game he had ever played. With wide eyes, he looked at me in my dress and grinned just a little bit wider.

I snorted. 'Having fun?'

I could hear you laughing behind me, on the bus.

Dobkin's nodded enthusiastically. 'Bundles!'

You hopped out from the bus and dropped the hose, grinning like a compete maniac. I stepped away from you, ready to hand you the lighter that was tucked away in the small pocket of my dress. You smiled fabulously and uttered a quick, ' _Thank you,_ beautiful'. Turning to the men, you said in a mocking voice, 'Ready? Okay!'

It was so fitting for you that the Zippo lighter did not work, wasn't it? Only such a thing would happen in such a dire situation. You clicked the lighter shut with a disappointed smile. 'This is _so_ embarrassing'. I scoffed at you and cocked a brow, watching as you clambered back onto the school bus and inquired if anyone had a light.

'I do!' said Dobkin's, surprised at his own competency.

The moment he flicked it open to hand to you, the sirens started. I watched, heart jumping, as the police cars pulled up in their pairs in front of us, tires skidding across the wet ground. For the first time in almost a week, my stomach clenched in anxiety.

I couldn't go back to Arkham. I couldn't be trapped like that again, not after being free with you.

I swallowed and backed away, aiming my gun quickly at the cars. 'Jerome,' I snapped at you. I gave you a look, a wide eyed look and a quick shake of my head. _I'll shoot myself before I go back with them,_ it said. _We have to fight._ You looked at me one last time, grin spreading across your face, before holding your gun high beside me. I breathed in.

'Stand your ground boys - _lady._ They can't shoot at the bus'. You held your weapon in both hands, eyes hard and horrible as they eyed the officers who left their cars. Among them, I eyed the man you had told me about...the one who put you in Arkham and was chasing us at every turn we made as the Maniax. Gordon.

You shot once and we followed suite. The gun shot back into me, the effect of the bullet leaving it a lot harsher than I would have ever imagined. I laughed, surprised and overwhelmed at the feeling of the metal _thing_ in my hands, jolting every time I pulled the trigger. Was this why so many people shot into the Gotham night, because it felt like this every time? If so, I could understand those trigger happy idiots that got themselves thrown into Blackgate.

One of them fired back though, didn't they? One of the cops, I mean. I was momentarily surprised at whatever cop had done it, simply because of his sheer stupidity. How dumb did you have to be to shoot at a bus full of teenagers that was filled with petrol? I was, though, even more pissed off that the bullet he had shot grazed my right arm, the one closest to you, and had me yelping out in surprise.

I looked at you and you looked at me and I thought you would kill them all there and then.

There came no more shots from them after that, but I lowered my gun hand all the same and looked at where I had been shot, taking in the running blood and the fairly deep wound. I blinked and laughed a little, wondering how close I had been to dying just then. I heard you shoot harder than ever, one bang after another echoing beside me.

I rubbed my wet fingers together, wishing it would quit bleeding already.

You voice was sharp when you spoke. 'Aaron, Greenwood - get to the truck!' You pointed and they ran, and it was only when I looked at you that I saw your eyes staring hard at my blood. You ran your tongue over your teeth so hard that I'm surprised you didn't slice it. You looked at me and glowered. 'Truck. _Now_ '. I obliged, only because I knew that this was drawing to an end.

With quick feet I dodged my way over the truck, clambering in quickly and holding my hand over the wound, still a little dazed. Greenwood took in my form and grinned at me, far too pleased to be concerned. I swore at him, wishing that he would just fuck off already.

'Light 'em up!' I heard you shout in the distance. Helzinger started the truck and I leaned out of the window quickly, desperate eyes watching to see you grab onto the end of the red truck, eyes plastered on the scene before you with a large grin on your face. I remember leaving Dobkin's, watching his crouched form try to light the fire somehow.

We left him, truck rumbling as we went.

You laughter was all that filled my ears, numbing the pain in my arm.

He was the first of us to fall.

* * *

 **Dun, dun, dun! Hope you like, thanks for the reviews!**


	10. Bang

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Ten:_

Bang

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

'You got shot, huh?'

I found it instantly a fucking stupid question of her to ask me, especially with out floundering time. I pushed forward through the hallway with the rest of the men, all of them still in their white, ridiculous suits. I gripped my right arm and did not even grace Barbara with a reply, instead I turned and glared at her form which leant against the wall to our left.

We all knew very well that there was one last job of the day, and we only had a small amount of time to prepare for it. I would be _damned_ if I missed this one. Impulse told me I only wanted to go to make sure you didn't die, but all I wondered was when the hell _It_ started talking to me. Was it always there, a murmuring at the back of my head? Was I getting madder, or was it just my thoughts breaking through the dull hum in my head?

The whole ride home I had felt the stinging _realness_ of my wound. Now that I was inside and safe, I marvelled the way in which my hand slid against the gash on my bicep, intrigued at the sheer amount of blood that could come from a flesh wound. I had never been hurt very badly before - I'd only seen others, like my mother, bleed. Perhaps it was my penance.

Whilst the others pushed into the dining room, past the lingering Tabitha, you sighed loudly and tittered away at her. 'What did Dobkins ever to do _you,_ huh?' You grinned and spun away from her, ignoring or simply not seeing her large brown eyes roll away from your form. You radiated with glee and happiness, so pleased with how the job had gone, even if the teenagers had not died. Would you have hated me for admitting that I was almost glad they had not died? It would have been a waste, Jerome. _Pointless._

My arm had started to hurt quite a lot at that point. I hung back for a moment, watching the others wander about the room and listen to the praises from the ever talking Theo. You spun to him, mouth wide and pleased as he relaid the events that had taken place. I glowered at him, wondering in real detail for the first time why the fuck we were bothering with all of this in the first place.

'You look pale,' Tabitha said, somewhere to be left. We both leaned on opposite sides of the grand doorway; her arms were crossed, whilst my left arm held my wound. I scoffed at her, too wary to be rude. My sharp tongue was not in the mood for a battle in that moment.

'I was shot'.

Need I say anything else?

She looked like she might act upon it for a moment, you know. Like she was actually about to offer assistance of some kind. But it was in that moment that Barbara coughed from somewhere behind us, loud and pointed and calling for the beautiful brunettes undivided attention. I smiled wryly and turned away, signalling to her that I was not bothered with her departure. Apparently being shot was nothing for anyone to worry about, was it?

Deciding, once the only other women were gone, that I did not want to be part of the male ego boost party, I returned to what had become 'our' room. From what the clock on the mantle told me, we all had only two hours until we were to set off for the GCPD building.

Holding a flimsy dress that Galavan had presented me with to the wound, I grimaced and swore. 'Just _wait_ until I find you later, you trigger happy _pig-'_

I heard the door click and knew it was _you._ 'You shouldn't _talk_ to yourself, _Mad_ die'. I stiffened at the name. 'It's a sign of madness, y'know'. You rounded the bed, smirk in place as you took me in, brow cocked. 'Huh. I was kinda hopin' you'd wear that little thing at some point, beautiful. Guess you're just _full of_ disappointments today, _huh_?'

There was something accusing in your tone that had me tightening my hold on the black fabric in my first. I glowered at you. 'I am _so sorry_ that me getting shot has bothered you so, Jerome. It's not something that I _exactly_ wanted, you know'.

You tilted your head, hair a disaster and jaw clicking with annoyance. 'You know I don't like it when you act like a _bitch,_ beautiful'.

I sneered and laughed at you, licking my lips and tasting the rouge. 'Why is it that a man will always call a woman a bitch when she talks back? If being a bitch means shutting you down when you're being ridiculous then, yes, I am _a bitch,_ Jerome'. I don't know whether it was because you were not expecting the answer or you were simply annoyed with me for not praising you already, but you acted so quickly and so violently that I can still feel the sting.

You swooped down and took my right arm in your grasp, thumb pushing past the fabric I held there and digging into my wound. I shouted in your face that was pressed close to mine, your white teeth bared at me and your blue eyes enraged. 'This wouldn't be happening if you hadn't gone and got _shot, Mads_!' You announced, retracting your hand quickly. I slapped you and your grinned, cheeks rounding.

'You're mad because I got shot?' I snapped, hissing and pressing the fabric against the bubbling blood once again. 'I was standing in the exact same place you were - it was just chance that I was the fucking one to get hit'. I pursed my lips and watched you step away from me, hands starting on the buckles of your suit. I watched you, eyes a little unfocused. 'I know which one did it. I'll get him'. It was an odd feeling, you know. I hadn't wanted to kill someone to personally since my mother had died at my hands. 'You wait'.

You peeled the suit away from your body, leaving you in your boxers. I hissed in pain as I peeled away the dress from my gunshot wound, noting that the gash was wide enough that it would not stop bleeding unless I got stitches pronto. I turned to you, about to open my mouth to voice this concern, but it was perhaps something in your eyes that stopped me from breaking the silence.

It wasn't the first time that I saw you looking at me with something like intimacy in your gaze. There was no devotion there, not any kind of level love between our looks. No. No. There was something, though. Something like rage. Something like concern. Something like confusion. Your head was tilted and your body was near paper white in the sunlight that filtered through the large windows and the only spot of colour on you was my blood on your thumb.

You opened your mouth and clicked your jaw, bottom teeth scraping against your top lip. I wondered what went on in that head of yours sometimes, much like how you wondered the same about me.

You pressed forward, bare feet padding against the wooden flooring. In only two long strides you stood before me, bare body white and freckled and a breath away from my fingers tips. I watched you, though, ever wary of anything you could do to me. Steadily, you reached a hand toward my face and cupped my jaw, eyes blank as you looked down at me.

'Stay close to me'.

I'm not sure whether you meant at the GCPD building, or just in general. Either way, I blinked up at you before nodding once, slowly. It was odd for you to speak to me in such a level voice. It made me a little uneasy, truth be told, Jerome. You looked over you shoulder, bones twisting beneath your pale skin as you eyed the clock with hard blue eyes. With a slight grunt, you dropped suddenly to your knees and grinned wolfishly at my wryly confused look.

'What are you doing, Jerome?'

You said nothing. Even as you hoisted up the skirts of my dress and pushed my knees apart, you continued to stay eerily silent. No, I suppose eerie isn't quite the right word to use, is it? I just wasn't used to your silence, Jerome. I wasn't used to you giving so easily to me. Even when your mouth found its prize, you kissed and sucked and touched me as you always did, but there was something slow and purposeful about the way you touched me. You did not bite or seek any kind of sounds from me.

You just _felt_ me.

I grabbed onto the muscle of your shoulders and you hoisted at my thigh, lifting one leg over your other shoulder. I gasped and clenched my eyes shut, chest heaving as I dug my nails into your skin with might. You drove me insane when you did things like that to me - when you mapped me out with your hands and tongue and made me _feel._ It was like every time you were with me you tuned into the childlike curiosity of yours, feeling every inch of me like fucking me was something else you could be a master at.

I came with your eyes staring up at me and a hand planted across my stomach to keep me in place as I arched upward. I hadn't realised just how much I needed that release until it was over - I felt calmer and just a little bit clearer in the head. You licked your lips and leaned up, grinning a little grin and planted your mouth against my own. I tasted me. You pulled away and pushed your nose against mine, sucking in my deep breaths. 'Are you feeling _better_ now, beautiful?'

And just like that, any ounce of you being anything other than a sarcastic asshole disappeared into thin air. I sighed at you and pushed you away from me, lips twitching into an exasperated smile. 'I've still just been shot,' I reminded you, watching you stand before me. Your lips were red and your eyes were darker than before. I loved you like that. ' _That_ still hurts'.

You clucked at me and rolled your eyes like I was a petulant, annoying child. 'Stitches!' you said suddenly, clicking your fingers. ' _That's_ what you need, beautiful. Gotta have you spick and span for the GCPD, ain't we?' You backed away and dove into the en suite bathroom, clattering and banging the only thing I could hear. You reappeared once again with your fists clenched around something small. You hovered before me, grinning wide. 'Are you excited, beautiful?'

Five minutes later I watched you sew the gash in my arm shut with surprisingly steady fingers. You sat next to me on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed underneath the other and your ginger hair tickling my face as you leaned down to the inspect the injury. 'Well, you've made a _mess_ of this, beautiful - _why_ didn't you clean it?'

I blinked at you. 'I - I'd been _shot,_ Jerome! I was waiting for someone to _offer!'_

You tutted at me once again and pulled hard at the thread, making me hiss. 'You can't just wait around for people to clean up your messes for you, beautiful. You know that'.

I squinted at you, watching your lips press together in concentration. It was one of the few times I was able to look at you closely without you grinning at me or teasing me. I could, finally, appreciate the paleness of your skin and the light, hardly noticeable freckles that decorated the bridge of your nose. Your eyelashes, pale, were what I found to be so surprisingly long as they dusted against your cheeks. There were so many things that made you beautifully human, it just took me a while to find them.

It hurt a little to look at you, so I instead directed my gaze to the full length mirror directly in front of us. I often found my image to be a distorted one that I could never, ever like. I saw you, body leaning toward mine and hands moving in a fluid motion over my skinny, pale arm. My hair was as untamed as usual; so dark against my white, unhealthy skin. My eyes seemed brighter than normal - there was a kind of life there that I hadn't seen for years in the dark depths. What did you see in me that was beautiful, Jerome? I hated every inch of me at times. I hated that I was not a wonderful crazy like you, but instead a quiet, confused kind of mad.

My head hurt with it sometimes.

'Done!'

I looked quickly away from the mirror and down to my scratched and scarred arm that you held in your grasp. For a moment, I blinked in utter confusion at what was laid out before me - what you had _created._ My bicep, once covered in a wide gash and blood, was now tidy and knitted closed with the green thread you had chosen among the many colours. It was not that which had me stumped though; no, it was the way in which you had sewn the gash closed. You had made the letter _J._

I laughed loud and, perhaps, _sanely._ 'You _branded_ me?' I laughed, looking up at you and seeing your pleased little look. You liked to make me laugh, of course. 'Am I _cattle_ now, Jerome?' I scoffed and snorted, prodding the tender area around the skin with interest. 'I'm actually very impressed,' I giggled. 'You've done a pretty good job'.

You shrugged and stood up, dusting off your hands in an exaggerated manner. 'Well, having a _crazy bitch_ of a mother came with learning first aid, beautiful'.

* * *

I looked at you, donned out in your police uniform, and felt that peculiar stir in my stomach I had only become one again accustomed to upon meeting you. You looked _delicious,_ Jerome. I was so pleased to see you out of the clothes you normally wore. You carried yourself in new way, completely taking on a different role. I was entranced by you, you know.

'What'cha lookin' at, beautiful?' you said to me, taking on that New York accent you played so well. I blinked at you from behind my fake glasses, a slow grin spreading onto my face.

I leaned against the back of the GCPD building and blinked at you, hands pressed against the pencil skirt I wore. We were supposed to blend into our surroundings in a way that would allow us to walk into the building without being noticed. Not until we _wanted_ to be noticed, that is. You leaned over me, enjoying my interest and excitement in what was about to go down. You hadn't seen me like that yet. You hadn't seen me _want_ to kill.

The cap you wore shadowed over your eyes so that only I could see them. Pressing a hand against the wall as someone past a couple of meters away, you breathed against my face and grinned. 'I kinda like this look on ya, beautiful'. You licked your lips in thought, eyeing my pencil skirt and white, button up blouse. 'Very... _grown up'._ I couldn't tell if you were taking the piss or being serious, but in all honesty I didn't care at all.

I leaned up and nipped at your lip, practically _vibrating_ with anticipation. I was a little taller thanks to the kitten heels Barbara had picked out for me. You reached around me with your other arm and pulled none-too-gently at the bun my thick, crazy hair had been put into. 'Don't. Like. _That,'_ you said, pulling hard one more time. 'Let it loose as soon as you can. It's buggin' me'.

I rolled my eyes at you, pushing further into the wall. I knew you hated it when I moved away from you. 'Yes, _dad'._

You swooped in quickly, eyes dark and smile spread filthily across your face. The uniform made you bigger, somehow - it's hard to describe. 'You gonna start callin' me _daddy_ now, beautiful'. I almost flushed red, you know. It didn't help that you said the whole thing in that fucking accent. You pulled away from me suddenly, eyes flashing down to the clock on your wrist. 'Sorry to cut this short, beautiful girl. We gotta get goin' - _now'._

You went first, leaving me to straighten up my glasses and flatten down my hair. Once we were in the entrance of the building, I could see the others making a move forward behind us. Like you, they were dressed like cops. I felt calm. It reminded me so vividly of when I murdered my mother, you know. I was completely and utterly ready for what was about to happen - all I felt was a _want_ to shoot the fucker down who hurt me and made you look at me like I was something _less._

You went froward and passed one of the desk jockeys with a, 'I need t' talk to Commissioner Essen right away, it's an emergency'. You walked with your hand on your belt and with a lazy swagger to your walk - a perfect imitation of someone who was _not you._ I was impressed. I was _giddy._ I followed you with petite steps, my hand clutching a little red handbag. Did they all know my face off by heart? If one of them took one, long look at me would they know who I was?

You entered Essen's office with ease, head still ducked. I hung behind and leaned against the doorway, watching her face fall into an expression of utter horror as you grinned from beneath your cap. The moment she, the beautiful dark skinned woman, went for the gun on her desk, you acted. Your gun was pointed at her face before I could even reach for the one in my handbag. Her eyes darted to me and I could _see_ the fire there - I didn't know then that you would kill her. Had I had it my way, _she_ would have lived while the rest of them burned.

I don't know why. There was just something in her that was worth saving.

'Heard you were looking for us'.

There was a sudden bang from behind us and I watched as smoke and gunshots filled the GCPD. You laughed and stared at her, watching this woman panic as her men and her women died at the hands of our people. I wondered how it was felt to be in her situation - was she scared? Was she sad? I forgot what it was to real feel something other than what I felt for you. I often missed the feel of something _real._

Reaching up, I tore the glasses away from my face and watched the hell unfold behind me. I left you to play with your food, and instead watched a man dive to save a woman, I watched cops fight fake cops, I watched the world as if it was not quite there. How had my life turned into this pointless play of killing? Now, there had to be a point to a murder, I always thought. And... _there he was._ My point. My murder.

I recognized him, as he ducked and shot at the men we had brought with us. He was a stout, balding man with laugh lines and a coffee stain on his collar. There was nothing remotely evil or horrible about his appearance - in fact, I bet he had kids. I bet he had a plump wife who cooked him dinner every night that he got back from work. I bet he read his kids bedroom stories and I bet he liked to watch those old time television shows that my dad liked.

I bet he had a chance at a life that my fucked up little head would not allow. The idea of that life was a terrible end to me. You understood that, I knew. You saw what a sad, awful way that was to spend the days we had been given - it was why we did what we did. _We lived in chaos._

I don't remember shooting him. I don't remember making the concious decision to shoot that man, I simply remember seeing blood spray from his shoulder. It wasn't a shot to kill, but I would not tell you that. I would point at some random man and tell you that I shot them in the head. I would not tell you that he lay on the floor, in pain for the amount of time that we were in the GCPD. I didn't tell you that I read his name in the paper the next day, stating that he had in fact lived.

I wouldn't tell you that this fact pleased me.

'Beautiful,' you said, your voice like a song. You must have heard the gunshot, because the moment you met my gaze you looked _pleased_ with me. 'Oh, how _rude_ I'm being! Commissioner Essen, meet my girl - Madeline. Now, I'm sure you've heard a _lot_ about her from those police reports of yours. Now - how about you come with _us'._

We took her to the highest point of the GCPD once all of the shots had been fired. You tied her to a chair and I looked out for the man who had shot me, and in turn I had shot him. I couldn't see him, you know. I wondered if he had hidden amongst the other dead, or simply managed to crawl out of the hell hole the building had turned into.

Essen was tied to a chair on a desk and you stood before her, hat now thrown onto the ground next to you. Lazily, you walked back and forth as the last few stragglers were shot by our men. I watched one crawl toward me, gun in hand, but he was soon shot down by Greenwood. The brute grinned at me with rank teeth and glee in his face. They were like children - all of them. _No method to their madness, that's where you're different_

I winced and shifted, shaking the voice from my head.

'Hell of a first week you're having, Commissioner,' you said, peeling your jacker from your form. I watched her eyes flash to my stoic ones. She was trying so hard not to be scared, you know. Even you could appreciate her strength. 'I wish I could tell you things are going to get better for you - they're not'. You threw your jacket to the side with a flourish and spun on your heel, eyes meeting mine with a quick grin. 'Here,' you said to Greenwood. 'Bring that up here - better view of the room'.

Greenwood complied and hoisted himself up onto the desk with camera in hand whilst you pretended to direct him in getting the _best_ shot. I hung back, back pressed against the wall behind me and gun dangling lazily from my hand.

'Why are you doing this?' asked Essen, breathless and scared.

You paused and stood straight once again. 'To rule the world - blah, blah, blah. But we'll settle for some dead cops and some good PR'. Your laughter stopped and I heard the seriousness seep back into your voice. When you spoke like that...I knew then you were going to kill her. 'Kidding'.

'Yeah. Whatever, I get it. You're just crazy,' Essen bit back, leaning forward in her seat. I pulled away from the wall immediately, knowing that such words would just _bug_ you. It was such a simple excuse to you, wasn't it? You didn't like people to call you crazy, because crazy made everything seem so _messy._ No, no. You liked to be called eccentric - a _star._

You tilted your head at her. 'Crazy'. You tasted the word. Slowly, you took those few steps forward and turned once, becking me forward with a quick jut of your head. With a roll of my eyes I complied, climbing onto the desk in my annoying pencil skirt and silly little heels. Hoisting up your trousers so they rested over your ankles, you knelt before her. She looked at you, unblinking. 'Look at me,' you said, voice low. 'Look at her'. Essen's eyes flashed to mine, then back to yours. 'You can see we're not crazy'.

'Very soon little man,' Essen replied, voice slow and precise. 'You and your little girlfriend _will_ be dead, and the world will go on without you. You'll be nothing - no one will even remember your name'.

I stood closer to you now, feet only a breath away from yours. I didn't like the way she spoke to you. I didn't like how she belittled you. If only they saw past the bad and just...just realised how _brilliant_ you were. Horrible and sadistic - yes...but so, so smart. 'Hmmm, _no'._ Your voice held that malice. 'That is where you're _wrong_ '. You stood suddenly, towering over the both of us. ' _Old lady._ We will leave a _mark_ on this city'. You curved around her, mouth inches from her ear. My jaw clenched. ' _We will spread across it like a virus._ Do you know why?'

Greenwood, who filmed the two of you, laughed. 'There's not thing more contagious than laughter!'

I sighed, watching as you turned to him with a large smile on your face. It was no surprise to me when you raised your gun hand and shot him square in the chest, smile unwavering. You had, in fact, promised long ago that you would kill him. Essen flinched and tried to shrink away from you, but you simply turned back to her with a large grin.

'My line'. You laughed. 'There's nothing more contagious than laughter! Ha!' I turned and watching Greenwood twitch and bleed, no remorse in my body. He deserved it. He _did_.

Essen spat at you, only causing me to take a further step forward. In reply, you licked your lips and blinked at her, a slow smile crawling across your face. 'That was strangely pleasant. _Do it again'._ I narrowed my eyes at you, not quite appreciating the way in which you were teasing your prey. You know, the fact that she head butted you almost brought me a small amount of glee. I couldn't quite help the smile that spread across my face.

You laughed in her face, blood pouring from your bleeding nose. 'You got me! My turn'. You laughed and laughed, more horribly than I had ever heard it before. You were going to kill her, I knew, but even when you cut her throat I knew that was a wasted life. She was strong. She was a fighter. The world couldn't risk to lose people like her, Jerome. All that would be left was the weak and rotten.

You grabbed my arm and pushed me to the centre of the platform, camera pointed at my feet. With laughter in your voice, you kicked the camera so it faced the both of us and kissed me square on the mouth, promising me with that action that I would end up bruised and panting before the night was out. 'Now, beautiful,' you said, arm curling around my waist. 'Say hello to Gotham!'

* * *

 **Took a while to get it out, but I'm pleased with this chapter! Review and thank you for reading!**


	11. Fight

**You & I**

* * *

 _Chapter Eleven:_

Fight

* * *

 _No sleep, no chance, no need_  
 _Forget about it_  
 _One life, live free, big dreams_  
 _We're all about 'em_

 _You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here_  
 _You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now_

 _\- You & I - Crystal Fighters_

* * *

'- _So hang onto your hats, folks, 'cause you ain't seen nothin' yet!'_

Television You surged back onto your feet with what had become your signature laugh and shoved the cop hat securely back onto your ginger head. Behind you, my blood splattered periwinkle blue dress swished around my knees as I stepped back with you and laughed so loudly that it almost melded in with yours. _When_ had I started laughing like that?

When did I begin to sound like you?

 _Cop Killer._ I cringed away from the voice as Galavan turned off the television and began congratulating the remaining Maniax on our victory. Commissioner Essen was _dead._ What we had done was unforgivable in the eyes of society, yet I could not help but feel _proud._ Despite the carnage we had created, I had _still_ maintained some method to my madness. _I didn't kill that cop._

 _And yet, you can feel your control slipping. You're becoming more like him. You're becoming as **demented** as he is, Madeline._

Physically shaking my head, I caught the curious gaze of Barbara. As she cocked her brow, I threw her a nasty glare and turned to stare at the back of your head. Your arms were thrown out in front of you, still donned in that now filthy cop uniform. Helzinger stood stock still to the left of me, slightly scruffy and bloody from his fight with Barbara's cop ex-fiance, Jim Gordon.

Pointless drama.

I wanted to drag you away from them. I wanted to leave that God damn building and run into the night with you. Could we not make our own chaos? Why did we need the sneaky and scheming Galavan, who I was so entirely sure had some ulterior motive.

Why hadn't I known? Why hadn't I _done_ something?

Tabitha and Barbara exited the room with a few sarcastic comments thrown Galavan's way and a snide remark on you being an out of control toddler. I could see the way your shoulders stiffened and how your head slowly turned in time with them swaggering from the large, high ceiling room. _Only four of you remain. You sure you're gonna get our of this alive? You gotta be tougher, Mads._ True. So very true. Both Dobkins and Greenwood were worm food, the latter of whom was stronger than I would ever be.

Did you ever think that? Did you ever think I would live past every encounter? Did you care?

I could still feel the adrenaline from the speedy exit from the police station burning in my veins. Is this why you loved what Galavan was allowing us to do so much? I could understand. Since the moment I had met you in Arkham I had began to understand the utter thrill that came with living a life so dangerously. Killing, when needed and when deserved, gave one _such a rush._

Would the day come when I could and would kill like you?

The terror _seized_ at me suddenly. How had I changed to drastically in such a short amount of time? My crazy had always been so firmly under my control, but the fire in my body and the voice in my head told a story of control being lost. Even with my infliction of Impulse Control Disorder, I maintained a control over _exactly_ what impulse I would follow. I had always been so fucking _aware_ of what kind of impulses I had.

But that, in the past couple of months, had vanished.

The thought was both exciting and terrifying, so much so that I turned sharply on my heel and followed Tabitha and Barbara in their exit from the room. In that moment, I heard Galavan mention a surprise he had for you.

I marched firmly toward the room that we shared and threw myself onto the bed, drawing the covers close to me and curling beneath them. _Sleep. You need sleep._ In reply, I had begged the voice to just _shut the fuck up._ I couldn't hear my own thoughts. Or was that lilting, odd voice my new thought process? The voice that warned me of thing and sounded like a less crazy version of you.

My stomach clenched yet again.

How did you accept the mad with open arms? How did you sneak into my life and become such a part of me? I was terrified. Terrified that I would become like you, and that perhaps I would lose you because of it. It was a weakness that I didn't need; I had spent so long in Arkham mastering the art of not caring and you had ruined that so spectacularly.

I hated you for it.

I loved you for it.

What would happen if I threw myself from the window? It would stop. These desperate, clawing feelings would cease and I would no longer be under your spell. The anger and the love would just _stop._ But then who would you have? I couldn't leave you - not yet. The empty vastness of death was something so terrifying yet so welcoming.

 _You're going mad, Madeline._

'Wasn't I already?' I murmured, face pressed against the softness of the mattress.

The voice did not reply.

I was standing from the bed before I even knew what was happening, mortified to find that my cheeks were wet and that _you_ (of course you fucking were) were entering the room. I was breathing hard, my feet bare and the blue dress crinkled around my knees. You paused upon seeing me, your eyes hard and gaze trained on my flushed face and heaving chest.

But then you flashed a grin and I breathed a deep breath out. ' _Why_ the tears, beautiful?' You slammed the door shut behind you, so hard that the walls seemed to shake. I flinched and rolled my eyes and wiped away the salty tears with my palm. My mother would always say that tears were pointless and made your eyes needlessly puffy. You sauntered toward me and paused, face a blank slate. ' _Huh?'_

I shrugged. 'I don't know. Panicked. And _don't_ laugh,' I scolded, eyes narrowing when the tell tale signs of his amusement began showing on your face. 'I'm going crazy - _crazier_. You're like a fucking infection, you know'. I reached forward and pinched one of the buttons of your pale blue cop shirt. The plastic was cold against my fingertips.

You caught my hand and laughed, mouth stretched and eyes wide. 'Oh, _beautiful,_ you sure know how to woo a guy!' Lacing you fingers with mine, you tugged me against you and wrapped your other arm around my waist. 'We ain't _crazy,_ are we? We're _enlightened._ Doesn't that sound a _whole_ lot better? You're becoming more _enlightened-'_

'I know-'

' _Now,'_ you snapped, dropping my hand and tugging my chin up to look at you. 'Don't interrupt. Say, didn't I see you shoot at that cop who shot at _you?'_ I blinked up at him. 'Beaut-i- _ful._ You're gonna drive _me_ mad with all this _frown-ing._ Smile, won't ya?' I complied and you kissed me, fingers brushing from my chin to my cheekbone. It was odd, sometimes, to think of you as someone who even _enjoyed_ the act of kissing.

You pulled away with grin and crinkled eyes, but I tugged you back suddenly, not realising just how much I had _needed_ to feel your lips against mine. _This_ was the kind of impulse that I could understand and comply with. You. My biggest impulse of all. You huffed a little when my mouth met yours again and our noses bumped and my heart hammered in my chest. I kissed your furiously, planting both hands on your cheeks and your jaw, feeling as much of you as I could.

 _I love you. I love you. I love you._ The thought was in my own voice and it ran through my head like a mantra. It was only when I realised we had stopped kissing and your grip on my waist tightened to an almost painful pressure that I realised your blank stare was trained on my face. You mouth was pressed into a tight line and the look upon your face was unreadable.

It was only when you crashed your lips against mine with such vigour that I was nearly lifted from my feet that I realised I had said the words out loud.

Had it been the first time you had heard them directed at you? Would you have killed me for asking you? The answer to both was probably. I couldn't imagine that your whore of a mother had ever gifted you with those words.

You moved to my neck, your hot breath casting warmth and moisture across the expanse of my exposed collar bones. The sight of you in the uniform made my stomach clench and my cheeks flush, even as I began tugging at your belt. I wanted you. I wanted you so badly in that moment that I thought I might come then and there. 'I _need_ you inside of me,' I had breathed, so taken aback my the impulse that my knees felt weak.

The words were like a trigger to you. You tore yourself away from my neck and grinned viciously, eyes nearly black and lips wet with spit. I stuttered at the sight of you, nearly laughing in your face when I realised that you fucking enjoyed _dirty talk._ Pleased with the fact that the gripping panic and terror had left my system with your arrival, I revelled in the happiness and contentedness that seemed a sudden part of me.

Abandoning the thick belt, I felt you roughly through the uniform black trousers and bit my lip, drawing myself closer to your height. 'I just really, _really_ want you to fuck me, Jerome'. I squeezed and your head lolled back as you groaned. The sight had heat pooling into my belly. You were so human it hurt. At a loss for any other words, I instead kissed the underside of your jaw and let got of you. 'What did _Galavan_ want-'

You snorted and clenched the hem of my dressed, fingers tapping their way up my steadily fattening thighs. That didn't, of course, stop Barbara's snarky comments about my tininess. 'Beautiful, don't _make_ me fucking _kill_ you'.

What worried me was the seriousness of your words.

I grinned and kissed you, nipping lightly at your bottom lip. As unaccustomed as I was to physical intimacy, I was beginning to understand what you enjoyed. Roughness. Biting. Scratching. Knowing when you would accept affectionate touches was something I was beginning to understand. I huffed and drew away from you. 'You're being _oddly_ quiet'.

You grinned wolfishly. 'Can't a guy enjoy being felt up? No?' You tutted. 'Such a _spoil sport'._ You hands drew further and further up until you were pushing against my core through my underwear. I shuddered and gripped your arm. You pushed against me, voice hoarse and rough and so like the on that you used with Essen. 'So _wet_ for me, huh?'

Deciding that, for once, I wanted to outshine you I nodded and wrapped my arms around your neck and ground myself against your hand. You fingers continued to move outside the confines of my underwear. 'Remember that time in the cafeteria at Arkham when you touched me? I was wet for you then. Had to go back to my room - I came three times just _thinking_ about what I wanted you to do to me-'

You pushed past my underwear with a hiss and a wicked grin, fingers finding that bundle of nerves and causing me to stutter for breath. The moan I gave was perhaps a little over done, but I was enjoying this sudden gain of power _far_ too much. You were _you_ in that moment. The insane, grinning and broken down version of _you._ Would you allow anyone else to dominate you like you were allowing me to in that moment?

Just for now, before any other plan Galavan cooked up, I wanted it to be just the two of us.

Your fingers curled and beckoned inside of me and I panted against your chest, arms still wrapped securely around your neck. In return, you whispered things to me. 'Who owns you, huh, beautiful? Who owns every _piece of you'._ You. You. You. I was yours and you were mine, and it was only when I was wrapped up so entirely in your being that I understand your need to watch the world burn. My freak out earlier was like the product of you not reminding me what exactly it felt like to be _with you._

But then the drug would wear off and I would suddenly realise how much you had corrupted my already corrupted mind.

I bit your neck and licked, grinding myself against your hand and feeling the tightening, building, swirling...I stopped you with a sharp bite to your neck and a tug at your hand. It was only when I shook my head that I realised you had loosened the tight bun of my hair so that my curls swept around my face. Looking into your dark eyes and impatient stare, I said, quite breathlessly, 'I want to come with you inside me'.

That did it.

You started on your belt buckle as I stepped away from you, your fingers lazily dancing over the leather and metal with a dark sneer masking your pale face. I watched you like a hawk, skin hot and an aching want throbbing between my legs. As you kicked off your shoes and undid the blue shirt, I took yet another step away from you. 'Tell me how much you want to fuck me,' I requested, staring you stark in the face.

You snorted. 'Mads, Mads, Mads'. You pushed forward for me, an almost angry twitch sharpening your features. I started back again and you only stopped when a grin lifted my cheeks. 'You are _bad,'_ you hissed. The paleness of your chest shined in the dwindling sunlight that filtered through the window, the hair starting from your bellybutton and ended at the entrance of you jeans so dark against your skin.

Control. I wanted to control you. I wanted you to praise me. I was desperate for it.

Eyes still trained on you, I reached beneath the dress and tugged my underwear off. The black garment fell to the floor soundlessly and I kicked it away, instead curling my fingers around my dress. Your patience snapped, just as I know it would. There was a moment of fear as you stalked toward me and grabbed my wrists roughly, sure enough leaving red marks in response.

You were wild after that. You threw me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, legs pinning my own to the mattress as you attacked every inch of my neck. You moved constantly, biting and scratching and squeezing and punishing me for defying you in that moment. I like to think that had it been anyone else, you would have killed them for less.

When you were inside me, the only sounds were the that of your groans and my gasps. The world ceased to exist when you moved inside me, and to my horror and your delight I told you this.

You told me you knew.

* * *

You lay next to me after, arms spread and fingernails scratching lightly against my shoulders. I peered up at you, idly wondering if _this_ was the most relaxed I had seen you conscious. And yet, I could see the way in which your eyes flitted about the room, as if you were following each crazy thought as it swooped through your mind. You were never relaxed; never calm. You were chaotic. So much so that I cannot even begin to fathom what was happening inside your head.

'Galavan found my good ol' pa,' you said finally, fingertips pressing hard into my shoulder at the last word. 'He's my _reward._ Gonna plant the _whole thing_ on _him._ Frame the _poor old fellow'._ You clucked your tongue and flicked your gaze down to me as I shifted onto my stomach, my green eyes meeting your blue. 'He's never gonna see me _coming!'_ You laughed out your laugh, putting everything you had into the maniacal sound _,_ only stopping when I blinked back at you. 'He's blind,' you deadpanned.

' _Oh'._ I snorted, noting the way in which the corners of your mouth twitched and your eyes narrowed as you looked down at me. 'When did you last see him?' I questioned, thinking of my own dad.

You scoffed and waved a hand. 'Uh, uh, _uh_. Don't ask _boring_ questions, Mads! Ask _how_ I'm gonna kill him, _won't_ ya? I was thinking a knife - or maybe a plastic bag over the ol' noggin, what d'you think?' I frowned and your expression darkened. The arm wrapped around my torso tightened. 'Why the long face, _Mads?'_

I shrugged and lowered my chin onto your chest. 'Why is Galavan giving you him - what's he asked for now, Jerome?'

You tuttered and tittered. 'Questions, questions, questions! Galavan wants us to do in young Bruce _Wayne,_ if you've got to know,Mads. Got some charity magic show for all the _elites_ of Gotham Society,' you drawled, taking on a posh accent. 'And then-' You jerked, free hand reach round to grasp dramatically at your own throat. After a second of pretending to choke, you stilled and stared down at me. 'No more Bruce'.

'No more Bruce,' I repeated. No method, just murder. _How do you know that? Galavan doesn't seem like the type to kill a child for shit and gigs. This means something. He's using you all. You're better than that. You and Jerome are better than that, Madeline._ It was only upon the tightening of your jaw and the darkening of your eyes that I realised the words had fallen from my lips.

The hand that had been gripping my throat was suddenly gripping my hair as your pushed forward, throwing me into a sitting position with you. I yelped and smacked at you, ignoring your sudden laughter at my action. 'Jerome, _stop!'_

' _We're better than that?'_ You repeated, teeth gleaming as you grinned. You drew your nose close to my neck and sniffed, pulling me so that I was straddling your thighs. 'Mads, Mads, Mads. Be _smart,_ won't you?' The grip on my hair tightened and I glowered, ignoring the pain. 'This is _my_ show - not Galavan's. If you wanna change the world, you gotta start somewhere, ain't ya? Don't be the _Judas_ of this operation, will you?' You drew away from my neck and nudged my chin with your nose. ' _Maaaaaads?'_

I pushed angrily against your chest. 'I would _never_ betray you, you _stupid_ boy-'

You yanked hard at my hair and growled, the smile on your face wider and more terrifying. It was only expected that the situation was making you grow hard against me. 'Rudeness isn't _tolerated,_ Mads-'

I cut you off angrily, tired of you growing angry at the oddest of times. 'After this, after Wayne, I wan't to _leave._ This will be enough for people to know who you are, Jerome! We can make the world burn without Galavan and his deranged sister-'

You kissed me and I pushed you away, a furious glare on my face. ' _No_ ,' I snapped clambering off of you. 'You were a dick. I'm not fucking you _now'._ I climbed from the bed, only to trip when your form crashed solidly into mine and pressed me painfully against the wall. I gasped in pain at the feel of the cold, hard wall on my naked form. The rage bubbled inside of me, mad and red. _No one hurts you. No one._ I clawed at you, ordering you away from me.

'Why so _rude?'_

I spluttered and glared up at you, pushing away the freckled arm that pressed against my throat. 'I don't have to fuck you every time your dick gets hard, Jerome,' I pointed out angrily. 'I'm fucking _happy_ you're getting to top your dad, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? Obviously the other stuff I said was _not_ welcome. Go kill him. God knows I can't judge you on that-'

'I want you there'.

I paused and frowned at you. 'What?'

You nodded, eyes blazing. 'Yeah. Oh, _yeah._ I want you to watch. Maybe then we can go find _your_ dad, huh?'

I glowered. 'I killed my mum _for_ my dad. That seems a little counterproductive'.

You gave me a considering look. 'Fair enough,' you clipped out, and pushed yourself away from me. I huffed and crossed my arms, suddenly feeling very naked in front of you. 'You're right. Don't look so _surprised_ Mads. It's known to happen, ya know'. You cackled. 'We _should_ give Gotham a taste of what _chaos is._ Ha! Leave Galavan and _wreck Gotham_ without his lead. Oh, yes, yes, yes! You're a _genius,_ Mads!'

I huffed. 'I _know'. He listens to you. He'll leave. You both can leave an you can create a method to the chaos, or you can fall into the fire with him. Either way, you will not be under anyone's rule but his and your own. If he fights you on it, f_ _ight him back. He will never rule you so entirely. You have to leave Galavan._

I told the voice to shut up.

I should have fought him more.

* * *

 **Long time no see! It's been so hard waiting this story out just to see if and how Jerome would come back, and he is! I have a pretty solid idea of what I want from Madeline and him. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, considering what is to come I wanted a lot of Jerome/Mads, 'cause I have a feeling you're all gonna miss that in coming chapters. Anyway, review and thank you to everyone who stuck with this story! My tumblr is qarlgrimes.**


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